Tell It To My Face
by TiniTinuviel
Summary: After escaping the clutches of evil, Harry finds danger is much closer to home than he ever thought it would be... and that maybe Voldemort isn't the one in power after all.
1. Information

Hello all!  Welcome to my first story ever! Whoo hoo!! Good times! Good times! Anywhoo!  I'd first and foremost like to say thank you sooooooo much for even just clicking over here to check out my little piece - o - fiction and I hope you enjoy it!

Right now, this is sort of like a pilot episode of a TV show… I'll definitely continue with it, especially if you guys like it (and especially because I'm already working out much for the future of this fic!) but the next installment might take a bit of time, but I'll try not to take too long!  

I am open to all sorts of reviews and whatnot, especially flames! If you hate it, tell me about it! Then I can fix it and have a good laugh at myself in the process! I love to laugh at myself… it's just so much fun! 

Also!! I do not own anything Harry Potter related… if I did, man, I would not be the semi-poor person that I am! It all belongs to the fabulous Ms. Rowling… man, she's awesome!

With that said and with you ready to read… 

Darkness fell,

The sky descended,

And the trees surrounding him grew closer,

stifling the air, leaving him claustrophobic.  The brittle leaves shattered beneath his frail, exhausted body, pressing into his cheek like jagged bits of glass while the blood from scar seeped over the forest floor.  Blood was pouring from the gash that stretched from the base of his neck on the left side, wrapping around from his throat, to the base of his head on the right, matting his hair down and oozing until his neck was coated with the sticky substance.  The collar of his robes and shirt were stained from the mass of life's blood that ran freely from him and he wouldn't have noticed the footsteps crunching nearer if his opened scar hadn't begun to burn with a ferocity that had never been felt before.  

The figure, shroud in black with his hood up, approached him gingerly, but the many onlookers could see the eagerness radiating from him and he took a knee next to the quiet, still, yet crying figure lying thrashed and beaten on the forest floor.  His arm lay partly in the muddy lake, his hand feebly grasping at the reeds, desperately trying to hold on to his life.

"Now, Potter, you couldn't believe that I'd never get you," came the cold voice above him, "that I wouldn't be waiting for them to take their eyes off of you for just one feeble second?  Oh no, I've been waiting for this for fourteen long years, and I'm going to enjoy it."

With that, the figure removed his hood and the man's pupils flashed in the moonlight and the Death Eaters bowed their heads and crouched down to one knee.  Voldemort leaned over him, placing one hand on the ground between Harry's body and his arm floating in the leaf-strewn lake so that he almost hovered above him.  He was so close Harry could feel his breath on his face, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named leaned down ever closer.  Amidst the monstrous pain that shot through his head, making his scar bleed even more profusely, he could feel it:  the wet, forked, sandpaper tongue that ran up the gash across his neck, leaving the feeling of dripping poison in his skin and he cried out horribly into the night.

"Stop it! Please!" he screamed but the pain from his scar overpowered him and all he could do was whimper and whisper, nausea threatening to overtake him.  "Please…" and he shuddered as sandpaper again dripped poison into his system.  He could feel the muscles in his neck give way, all of his muscles giving up hope, and his face pressed harder into the crackling, black earth.  His head was swimming but the sandpaper had stopped scratching him leaving portions on his crevassed neck feeling cold and exposed instead of warm as the heated, thick fluid had once warmed it.

"I've never tasted anything so rich, Potter, as the blood that brought me back to life," he said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "you'll have to give me the recipe."  And at this serene sarcasm, as if from miles away, Harry could hear laughter from the ring that surrounded them and Voldemort's evil hiss filled his ear once more, "I never would have though that stupid Evans girl would have been of any use, or anything more that a nuisance.  You'll have to thank her for me when you see her.  You won't have to wait much longer it seems," he softly laughed, seeing the blood that pooled from Harry's forehead and the rest of his body.  It had begun to trickle down to the edge of the black lake, swirling red within its darkness.

_'Hogwarts.__  Hogwarts.  Just think of Hogwarts, Harry, come on.  You have to make it through this!'_

"And your precious school?  Oh, Harry, not even that is safe from me anymore.  What do think I've been doing all this time?  Waiting and watching the years go by?  Yes, I was in hiding, biding my time like some lower animal, but I had thoughts to keep me company.  Oh yes, so many thoughts.  They drifted to everything.  The world, the times, even my family and my idiot father who left me nothing!  But do you think that my ancestor, Salazaar Slytherin, would have left me with nothing?  Oh, no, dear boy, he left me with more than I could have ever asked for…" and his silky, hissing voice leaned down until Harry could feel his lips brushing his ear, "He gave me Hogwarts." 

_'No,' the younger desperately thought amidst the pain and shaking, __'It can't be true… how could it be true?'_

"How could it be true?  That's what you're thinking, I'm sure.  Fools, every one of you.  Do you honestly think that the creators of our schools, our institutions that we," and he chuckled beneath his breath, "that we trust our _children_ to wouldn't have left any hints or clues as to the spells that they placed on them? In case they should need to be repaired?" he added as innocently as he foul breath could muster.  "No symbols or fairy stories?" and his innocent voice suddenly turned deep and menacing, "Or diaries?"

"If you were really as smart as think you are, Potter," he sped up, spitting out Harry's name like a disease, "you would have seen this by now.  Even that stupid Granger girl didn't see it.  Didn't you ever wonder how I knew how to open the Chamber of Secrets all those many years ago?  

"My grandfather Slytherin of many generations left a diary, a journal, of the secrets of Hogwarts and its spells, enchantments, rooms and passageways.  Oh, I read those pages thousands of times as a boy, waiting for the day when I would be strong enough to overtake it, to make it my own!" and he was excited now. "But then you came along," he spat, rising up now from the ground at Harry's side, and he began pacing, circling him as Harry's tears started to form.  "Yes you, and you drew away my power just when I was strong enough to use it, and so for these past fourteen years, I've done nothing but bend my will to survive, and bend my mind to those pages.  I practically memorized that book as a child and every word of it still resounds clearly in my head.  Your precious school will not survive, Potter, and all of those that you love and hold dear will crumble in the ashes along with it!"

"No!" was the only reply that Harry could muster, feeble though it was, through his aching tears that slipped innocently into his blood.  He knew he was losing it, his battle for his life.  "Dumbledore…" 

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" he growled at him, "But no, not even he can save Hogwarts now.  With my powers returned and my subjects beside me, your world will shatter, my dear boy, and there is _nothing you can do to save it."_

The edges of his vision grew black and it was slowly spreading over his mind.  Even the thought of returning to Hogwarts to warn them of the death that lay ahead couldn't keep him from slipping slowly into the darkness.  His grasp on the reeds was beginning to loosen, but he refused to let them go.  He coughed through the blood that was invading his lungs, taking in forced, quavering breaths, and Voldemort only watched him as if watching some child playing at putting together a puzzle.

The darkness was overcoming him, his sensations were fleeting, but just before his hearing deserted him entirely, he could hear and feel what felt like thousands of animals galloping through the trees, splashing through the water and voices, so many loud voices yelling and stampeding.  

The stars crashed from the heavens all around him.  The crunching of the leaves grew louder and louder in his ears and the ground shook beneath him even as he felt something sliding along the leaves, stopping as it collided against him, sending the leaves around him scattering in the wind.  A hand clenched tightly over the crevasse that was still fountaining blood onto the innocent leaves that lay dying on the forest floor.  Another hand searched frantically over his body as a voice called to him, finally holding his face up from the ground.

"Harry!  Harry!  C'mon Harry, stay awake!  Don't leave me now, Harry!  Don't leave me!"  But the urgent voice was loosing meaning and the words streamed together in a blur and a haze.  Harry swallowed hard and thickly, painfully coughing into the cold hand that held him.  "Remus!  Over here, quickly!  Speak to me, Harry, come on, talk to me!"  But the darkness had come.  "I think we're losing him!" the voice called.  And the darkness enveloped him, and the quiet reigned throughout the night.

So, whatcha think?  Too much information for the first round, or are you intrigued?  Tell me what ya think!  Whether it be, "Way cool!"  "Your story blows!" or "Dude, I could REALLY go for some cheese fries right now!" Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!

                   ~TiniTinuviel


	2. In the Hospital

July 26, 2003

Alright kids! Here it *ahem* FINALLY is!  I'm sooooooo sorry that it took me so long to get this out! (And yes, I do know that I am going to fan fiction hell for taking two weeks to get this out! You may all feel free to hate me!)

BUT! Here it is!  It isn't the most exciting chapter (I don't think), but it sets up for some stuff later and does its job well! I PROMISE that the next chapter won't take so long to get up!  In fact, it's almost done so it shouldn't take me that long at all!  

And! After some serious deliberation after some serious discussing with my good friend NightSpear (author of Phoenix of the Elements, check it out! It totally rocks!), I have decided that this will in fact take place during Sixth Year… I originally planned for it's placement to be Fifth Year, but then, I first got the idea for this _before_ The Order of the Phoenix had come out.  However, for the case of this little piece - o - fiction, the death of a certain character will not be honored.  (Sorry, J.K…. but YOU were torn up about it too!)  

So, in recap, Sixth Year, no death.  Got it?  Good!  

Notes to reviewers:

**Usagichan**:  Haha! Whoo hoo! You still like it!! But you totally have to read this chapter… even YOU haven't seen this part yet! New addition!! That's why it's been taking me so long! And no, Seti~san doesn't know… she'd prolly kill me if she knew! Lol! 

**Tayce**:  YAY!!!!! I have a fan that I DON'T already know!!! HURRAY!!! I'm sorry it took me so long! Really! But I'll try and go faster!! And I'm WAY mondo glad that you like it!! :D Please stick with me!

**NightSpear**:  My first reviewer EVER! YAY!! You totally cracked me up with "whoa." Cracked me up! And thanks for all the nit-picky stuff… I went back and fixed the ones I could remember and I'll fix the other ones later and re-post it!  Glad you liked it and hopefully I'll let you know "what the he** was going on" soon enough! :D

ANYWHOO! Now that I have rambled on and I'm sure you have been waiting to continue (if you haven't given up on me yet!), I'll let you get to it!

Enjoy!

~*~

He coughed.  The man beside him.  But he wouldn't open his eyes.  Couldn't.  He was afraid that if he did, someone would come up to him and give him the bad news he didn't want to hear.

Sirius had been sitting in the waiting room of St. Mungo's for what felt like hours, Harry's blood etched into his tired hands, the sleeves and chest of his clothes, and smeared across his face into his hair.

He could remember perfectly every second of his tenure in this wretched place thus far this dark evening.  

*

Standing up in the apparation room with a barely warm body hanging in his arms.

Running through the waiting room with the limp boy, no breath escaping his lips and blood pooling in his school robes. 

Having doctors and nurses, healers and orderlies alike telling him to lie him down on a stretcher, and seeing the blood that covered his childish face.

The staff pulling out various instruments to check on the young boy's well-being, being forced to watch as they shifted and moved his arms and legs as if they were dead.

The quick snatches of unintelligible information that they spat to each other.  

Telling them quickly amidst there conferring all that had happened since he first saw him.

The pained, yet subdued look on the soiled boyish face, eyes closed and hair matted to his forehead in cold sweat.

The thought that his godson might not make it out this time.  These could be his final moments.

But the most horrid memory of all was the jolt he got when they had to hold him back as they wheeled his only family away from him, a doctor shouting, "I've got a pulse," as they ran him along a corridor and out of sight.  The last thing he saw through those doors was a stream of dark hair flowing from a young, beautiful woman.

"No! You have to let me go with him!  Please!"  Sirius shouted.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay out here," a tall, light haired, orderly told him.

"I'm the only family he has left!  Please, I won't disturb them.  Just let me stay with him."

"I'm afraid I can't let you in, but perhaps in a short while you may visit him."  When he made no move to leave and appeared all the more apprehensive, the man said, "Please, have a seat.  We'll keep you informed of his condition.  What we know, you'll know too. Please," he said again, gesturing toward a row of chairs overshadowed by paintings of past healers, "sit down.  I need you to fill out some paperwork anyway."

Sirius looked around himself with anxious disdain.  Rather, he was too worried to realize the actual contempt he felt towards St. Mungo's staff for not letting him stay near his godson.  But he sat down in the end and the man returned with a clipboard, a quill, and some ink.

"Could you fill this out please?"

"I can't write," Sirius lied, he felt too anxious to do anything properly right now.

"Well, then can you read this and tell me the answers?" he allowed.

"I can't read either," Sirius lied again, hoping that the young tow-head would take the hint and leave him alone.

"Fine," he said with an air of annoyance, "then I'll just have to read them to you and write down your answers," he retorted, knowing full well that Sirius could both read and write, but if Sirius was going to be stubborn, then he would return the favor.  He wasn't much for having sympathy for cranky people, especially ones that wouldn't answer questions that could lead to cures, no matter how stressed out they were.

"What is your name?" he asked in mock neutrality.

"Next question," Sirius replied.

"You can't skip this question! It's your name," the orderly, Stevens, Sirius noted on his nametag, said.

"I'm not the one in the emergency room, am I, Stevens?  It doesn't matter. Next question," he said forcefully, refusing to look the orderly in the eye.

"Fine. Hmm… well then you won't answer that one either… or that one… Okay, how about 'What is the name of the patient?'" he asked with a bit of sarcasm.

"Harry.  Harry Potter," he breathed.

"_The Harry Potter?" was the wondered reply._

"Next question." If he was going to be subjected to this, then he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Alright, birth date?"

"July 31, 1980."

"So that makes him?" he urged.

"Sixteen."

"Okay.  What are his parent's names?"

"They're deceased."

Stevens looked up.  "That's right.  They would be, wouldn't they?" said more to himself than anyone else.

The thought of James and Lily and almost losing their son tonight made stones drop into the heart and stomach of the Marauder and he leaned forward in his chair, elbows to knees, face in hands.

"Legal guardians name, then?" Stevens asked.

"Pass."

"Is it you?"

"Yes," Sirius tentatively allowed.

"Alright then.  Any past injuries?"

"Well, he broke his arm playing Quidditch a few years back.  I don't think there's been anything else as serious as that, just some school yard fights, I think."

"Like fist fighting?"

"Magic, I believe."

"Oooookay," he drew out as he scribbled Sirius' answers.

"Any special magical abilities?  Seer?  Animagi?  Wandless magic?"

"Not that we know of.  Sometimes he's a bit unable to control his magic when he's angry or upset but nothing like that.  He has some strong magic flowing in his veins.  Both of his parents were very powerful."

"Mmmm, hmmm…  Let's see," he was becoming more amiable.  "Allergies?"

"I don't know… I don't think s-.. oh!  Um, cinnamon," he let through his worry with what could be noted as distant triumph.  Little details like that he usually forgot until some time later.

"And how long has he had this allergy?"

"I don't know.  We found out about it at breakfast a few weeks ago.  It wasn't pretty.  It really startled us."

"Does he only have a reaction to it if he ingests it?"

"No, just touching it set it off, but we didn't actually realize it until after he had eaten some of it."

"No allergies to medications or potion ingredients, then?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Alright," he said with yet another flourish of his quill; Sirius was now staring at an opposing painting labeled, 'St. Catherine, Caring for a Vampire Maiden,' as the women within the painting equally threatened and cowered from each other as they circled the room in their painting.

"Now for the hard questions," he said a bit quietly.  "I need you to recount what happened tonight."

A long pause.

"I can't."  Telling what little he knew to the doctors was hard enough.  He didn't want to have to go through it in detail.

"You have to.  If you don't, they could miss something and it could put Harry into some serious danger."

"I didn't get there soon enough to know exactly what they were doing.  I only brought him here."

"When did you get there?"

"About," and he checked his watch, "my God, it was only about 20 minutes ago.  It seems like it's been much longer than that."

"What did you see when you got there?"

"Death Eaters."  He was very quiet.

"What were they doing?"

"Standing in a circle."  Sirius was evading true answers and he knew it.  If only what happened could remain mostly unsaid, maybe it wouldn't be true.  Maybe this whole week would be just be the remnants of a horrible dream.

"But what were they doing in that circle?"

He didn't answer.

"Why is Harry here?" he encouraged.

"Because he was nearly beaten to death!" came the exasperated cry.  "If I knew something don't you think I'd tell you?  I don't know what they did to him!  I don't know what spells they subjected him to, what tortures they inflicted upon him.  I don't even know why they wanted him in the first place!  He's just a boy.   An innocent boy who's punishment is to hold his own against that wretched serpent while the rest of the world ridicules him and puts him down!" Sirius nearly shouted, standing up with tears in his eyes.  "Look, I'm done with your questions!  I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore.  Please, just leave me be!" he said, standing over the orderly, looking oddly menacing and small at the same time.

"Alright, I'm sorry.  I know that this must have been as hard for you as it was for him. We're here to help him, and we'll do everything in our power to make sure he gets well again.  But, if you think of anything that you saw or heard that could help us in any way, please tell us."  Stevens said from his seated position.    

Sirius sat back down, his head hung low in shame.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to- It's just…" He couldn't finish his words.

"Yes?" Stevens prodded him.

"I just haven't seen him in four days and I've been so worried about him and then the first sight that I _do get of him…" _

"It's alright.  I understand," Stevens cut in.  He felt horrible inside for it, but in some deep rooted place, he felt justified in the fact that the man before him was so upset.  "But you said four days?"

"Yes."

"And this would be the fourth night?"

"Correct."

"By any chance do you know where he was being kept during these four days?"

"No," Sirius said shakily, "but, um, when we found him, he was in the forest."

"Which forest?"  Stevens was being careful to appear merely curious and not pumping him for information.  The more casual things stayed the more answers he'd get.

"The um…" he thought, eyes closed, head shaking, "the um… the Trixaline Forest," he finally got out.

"Trixaline?"

"Yes.  By the lake.  In the middle."

"Hmmm...  That's very interesting."  Sirius looked up.

"Why?  What would make that interesting?"

"I don't know," Stevens replied, "it just seems interesting that he would choose a forest to do his dirty work instead of some place more secure, if I may be so bold." He hoped Sirius hadn't caught his use of the word 'he,' as the gender of Harry's capture was yet to be determined.  A sly trick he had learned from a previous nurse to get more information.

"Yes, well, Voldemort is a twisted bastard."  Stevens shivered.  Sirius didn't notice.

_'Good Lord.  Lord Voldemort? I need to get this upstairs to them **now.'**_

"Alright, then," Stevens said professionally, successfully hiding his own apprehension, "I'll leave you now.  Just remember to tell us if you think of anything else, okay?"

"Sure.  I'll try," Sirius replied, looking down again at his feet.

"Don't worry; I'm sure Harry will be just fine." Stevens comforted him, and the orderly stood up, preparing to go, but just as he did so, a woman came running through the double doors, her dark hair flowing behind her.

"Stevens!" she called.  "Do you have the paperwork yet?  We need it!"

"It'll be up in just a second.  I need to get it signed and then it'll be yours," he called back.

"Well don't dawdle!  We need that as soon as you can get it.  Room 293, got it?" 

"Yeah, Eleanor, I've got it.  Now if you don't go it will take longer for me to get this through," he said.

"We're waiting!" she shouted as she went running back down the hallway from whence she had come.

"I'm going!" he called over his shoulder, walking through a door and to the offices behind it.  But Sirius had heard it all.  He looked up hearing that familiar voice and indeed it was the same dark haired woman from before.  The dark hair that followed Harry.

'_Room two-ninety-three,' he thought.  '_I'm coming Harry.  I'm coming_.'_

~*~

Hurray! Chapter finished!! :D  Whatcha think? And f.y.i., yes, this sort of is a flashback chapter that will be finished in the next one… if you get confused, just let me know and I'll try to make it clearer.

Okay, because of the aforementioned issue of my not posting very quickly thus far, if you want me to email you when a new chapter is up, drop me a line at amimegan@sailormoon.com.  (Dang, I've got a LOT of names! Lol!)  Just put "TiniTinuviel" in the subject box so that way I know who you are and that you're not spam! Otherwise, I'll prolly end up deleting your message!

More coming *hopefully* soon!

         ~Tini :D

P.S. Harry was born in 1980, right?


	3. The Wait

**_August 16, 2003_****__**

**_Disclaimer:_**  I, _TiniTinuviel_, am in no way associated with Ms. J.K Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Bros.  Harry Potter and all of it's characters, etc. belong, in turn, to all of the aforementioned parties and their subsidiaries. I claim nothing save for the particular plot of this piece of fan fiction and selected characters, namely Eleanor, Kyren Whitford, and Larna. 

**_*Author Notes*:_** Okay, okay, I know… three weeks is much too long a time to spend in between updates, I'm sorry!  You all must thank _NightSpear for getting me off of my boo-tay and posting this chapter! (I know __I do!)  I was having some issues with bits of it but I now believe that I have resolved those issues, thus, the update! Whoo hoo! But since I took so bloody long updating, review reviews are going to the end! And you'll be happy to know that this chapter is about three times longer than the first two! Yay!_

*But before we start, a request from a lowly writer!  Since _NightSpear is the whole reason why this chapter got up, you MUST go read one of her fics!! **_Phoenix of the Elements_ is absolutely fabulous and will definitely keep you wrapped up in it! **__And she's just about to reveal the big secret everyone's been waiting for! Don't miss it! So, most definitely, THANK YOU _NightSpear_!!_

*Where we left our characters last time:  Harry has just been admitted into St. Mungo's after being taken there by his lovely godfather, Sirius.  Sirius, however, is totally freaked out (who wouldn't be?) and after answering loads of questions for the hospital has escaped the glance of a stingy orderly to find our hero in the labyrinthine hospital! So, without any further ado, I give Chapter Three of _Tell it to My Face._

~*~

The two remaining Marauders paced a circle into the corridor outside of room 293.  It felt like days to their tired minds, but it couldn't have been more than an hour.

Sirius had found Room 293 easily enough and when he stood outside the window, peering into the chamber before him, not a soul said a word to him.  He would have remained at his self-applied post into eternity if it meant being there for Harry.

Remus was glad just to have found Sirius at all.  Stevens hadn't seen Sirius run off as he had slipped by while the forms were being signed and so Remus had run all through the hospital down hallways and corridors until he saw the dark haired figure pacing in front of a cracked open door.

Fearing the worst, Remus had run down the hallway to the dark haired man and as he came closer, he could see the blood that covered his once clean clothes, sleeves rolled up to just below the elbow and hands wringing furiously as he fought vainly to keep himself occupied.

"Sirius!" Remus called, sprinting to reach his friend once more. 

"Remus," he breathed, running to meet him. "Thank God you're here!"

"Is Harry alright?  Are you okay?" they exclaimed at the same time.

Sirius started, "Yeah, I'm alright, just really shaken up I guess.  I don't know how Harry is doing.  I've been pacing outside his door for an hour now and all I've heard are medical spells and…" it all spilled out, "doctors yelling… and more spells…" he looked to the floor, "and… and I heard him crying… He's in so much pain, Remus; I don't know what to do!"

Remus felt the pain behind the words mingle in with his own fear but he forced himself to speak logically. "Right now there's nothing you can do.  We're just going to have to wait it out, I guess."  Sirius didn't want to hear this so Remus searched for something to comfort him.  "But you said you heard him crying?"

"Mmm hmm…" he nodded, his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

"Well that has to be good at least.  If he's crying he's awake and if he can feel pain then he probably will make it out just fine, right?" he said, knowing he was trying to convince himself along with Sirius.

"I suppose so," came the uncertain reply.

"Come on, let's head back to his room, maybe they'll have some news for us," and they turned to walk back to the cracked open door across from the nurses station and sat down, agitated.

But all too soon, Remus had discovered why Sirius had been so panicked when he met him in the hallway.  From the continuous sounds of spells and voices of doctors and nurses coming out to the hallway, Remus was getting closer to the edge, too.  And with the thought that this had already been going on for an hour… they must have gotten to him just in time.

Before long, Sirius was up and pacing again, dying to give himself something to do.  He wrung his bloodstained hands continuously, chewing on his lip, head continuously whipping to the door at every sound made.  

Soon, Sirius had led Remus to feel so tense that he too stood up and began pacing.  The final two Marauders began their joint circular path in front of Room 293 and the fast voices within carried on.  

After a while, a curly haired nurse walked out of the room; Sirius and Remus froze to look expectantly at her.

"Gentlemen," she began, "my name is Kyren Whitford; I'm a nurse here at St. Mungo's."

"Remus Lupin," Remus said, quickly shaking her hand.

"I'm Harry's godfather," his friend said, almost absentmindedly, yet almost inaudibly.

"It's a pleasure to meet both of you," she began, releasing Sirius' rough hands, "but I'm afraid I must ask you two to sit down.  We know you are very worried and agitated about his whole ordeal but we can see you through the window, and I'm afraid it's making us nervous as well."

"Oh, we're- we're so sorry Ms… Ms…" he had already forgotten.

"Whitford," she finished for him.

"Yes, Ms. Whitford.  We're sorry, we didn't realize," Remus began.

"It's alright, Mr. Lupin.  Just, please, relax.  You two have had a very rough night from what I've heard; a rough few days for that matter. You need your rest as much as he does," and with that she turned to go back into the room, leaving the two men behind; leaving them to wonder how she'd "heard" about the past few days.  Harry's violent disappearance wasn't something that was too well known to the commoners of the community.  Could word really have spread that fast?  Or was she getting her information straight from the source?

They shared the same fearful glance at one another before stepping quickly to the window, faces pressed to the glass to see what was happening, but whether for good or ill, they could see nothing of Harry except for the heels of his feet which, uncomfortingly, twitched and jerked.  The dark haired nurse seemed to be trying to comfort him while two healers, plus Ms. Whitford and a blonde woman exchanged places in restraint and casting spells.

They stood with their arms crossed over their chests, staring into the window, gazing at the people before them.  They could still hear the sounds of their voices and, faintly, the sound of a struggled voice pleading with one painful, quavering word: "S-S-Siri…ius…"

At that moment the world stopped spinning and the stars stopped burning; the only thing that mattered had only lived for sixteen years.  Uneasily, they feared he might not live much longer.

Sirius couldn't take it anymore.  He nerves had already been on the edge of breaking down, but now they were shattered into thousands of pieces.  Quickly he turned, leaving Remus behind, and walked swiftly off to the waiting room at the end of the hall, hoping to God that nobody would see him cry.  He couldn't hear anything of Harry from down this far and the nearly empty room left him room to pace, chewing on his thumb and finally to sit alone, trying fruitlessly to sort out his thoughts and sit in peace.

It was here that he sat for another two hours.  Sat.  Stood.  Paced.  Worried.  How it was only two hours he wondered many times.  On one scale, it seemed more like a decade had passed; on another scale, he had been so consumed in his thoughts that two hours seemed too long of a time.

Occasionally, while he sat there, somebody else would come in and sit down, obviously waiting for their loved ones, just like he was.  Some crying, some silent, but all seemed to regard him with more respect and feeling than anyone else.  Not once did someone edge away, but they gave him his space and not a word was said to him.  The only communication he had was from a kind old woman who gave him an encouraging smile and a small, pigtailed girl who took one of his hands as he sat bent over his knees for the umpteenth time, and said, "Don't cry.  Your daddy will be okay, too."

Sirius looked up at her, a bit startled, eyes shining, brimming with tears.  "He'll be okay.  Mummy says it's just a scratch.  He'll be back soon.  You'll see." 

"I hope so," he had said to her, voice tight, and the small four year old was taken away into the arms of her mother as they passed back through the doors leading to the patients' hallways.  

And now here he was, hunched over, hands in his hair, muscles tensed, nerves on end with the words of a four year old running through his mind.  _"It's just a scratch.  He'll be back soon.  You'll see."_

You'll see.

_'Yes, I suppose we will.  But if it's not? What if he's died?  What will we do next? Where do we go from here?'_

And this was how his time was passed, contemplating whatever came to his distraught mind, trying to ignore the coughing man beside him, never noticing when a friendly face would come in to check on him; none of them ever breaking his silent prayers.  None, except the one who feared him the least.

"Sirius?" a quiet voice gently prodded him.  He started.  He hadn't even noticed Remus' quiet footsteps approaching him, or the fact that he had squatted down in front of him so that they were eye level.  "Sirius, it's time to go home.  There's nothing we can do here. Kyren came out again and told me that it looks like he'll pull through.  He's banged up pretty badly, but they're sure he's going to make it.  It sounds like they got him to sleep, but nobody is allowed in yet.  The doctors said they'd call us if anything happened."  

Sirius raised his head from his shaking hands to look at Remus through wet, tired, worried eyes.  "I can't.  I just can't l-leave him here, all al-alone…" he trailed off.  He threw his head back into his hands, wiping furiously at his eyes.

He just couldn't understand why he was falling apart like this.  Why now?

He'd been so clear headed when he'd found Harry.  When he saw the state he was in, the blood and… he'd immediately taken his cloak off and thrown it around the shivering body before him and Remus had thrown him his own cloak to hold tightly over Harry's neck, trying to stop the flow of blood.  Nothing was helping, though; they were forced to move him.  

Sirius had picked him up, cradling the sixteen year old in his arms, trying with all of his might to make sure not to jostle him and cause the blood to flow even more.  He had run into a clearing, Remus and some of the professors and Aurors scattering the last of the Death Eaters.  Voldemort was long gone.  

But once he hit that clearing… he'd almost dropped Harry when he saw him properly.  The blood from his scar had run down across his ashen face, onto his throat, where it was met by the stream from his neck.  His hands were raw and cracked, also bleeding.  His robes were badly torn and his body hung in his arms as if some limp, ragged doll.

He had frozen up.  He, Sirius, Harry's godfather, had frozen up.  Right when Harry needed him the most.

Remus must have noticed the look in his old friends eyes because he took his hands into his own.  "Sirius, don't do this to yourself.  You found him.  If it weren't for you, he'd be dead right now.  Hey, don't look down," and he pushed his chin up, "look at me.  You know it's true, Sirius.  Nothing we could have done could have prevented this."

Sirius' tears slipped silently over his downcast eyelashes and splashed on the clean, white floor of the hospital. 

"But I froze up, Remus.  I froze up!  How long did it take you to find us?  He could have been here, getting help, but no!  I panicked and he was dying and I just… stopped." He was very upset.  "Did you see him, Remus?  How white he was?  And all of that blood… I haven't seen that much blood since Peter blew the street apart fifteen years ago.  And that had how many people?  And it took me ages to get over that image.  Ages!  And I wasn't even responsible for them!"  He was shaking now and his tears feel freely, his shoulders heaving with the sobs he had tried so hard to hold back.

"Hey, its okay, everything is going to be fine," Remus said, upset that his friend was hurting so much, but also grieving from the sight he'd had of the young boy that evening.  It scared him so much but he forced the thoughts away for Sirius' sake, but one thing was upsetting him even more… 

"You weren't there for more than a minute.  We saw you run out and we followed you.  He's a tough kid.  He'll make it," and he nodded largely so Sirius would see it. 

'_Nothing we could have done could have prevented this'. _

 Sirius looked up at Remus, sniffling, but nodded as well.  

"Alright?" asked Remus, "We'd better be going.  Come on," and both men stood up and walked away from the Boy-Who-Lived.  One happy to be getting the other away from the situation, the other trying to regain his composure, not truly wanting to go.

"Wait!" the young, blond woman called, running up from behind them.  "Wait!"  They turned.  "You're Mr. Potter's relatives, right?"

"Well, not really," replied Remus hesitantly as Sirius wiped his eyes.  "This is his godfather, and we are all staying in his home for a short time."

This didn't seem to concern the nurse in the least.  "Well, that means you're Professor Lupin and Sirius, correct?"  They nodded a bit hesitantly at the mention of Sirius' name.  They thought they'd been careful about that.  But the nurse didn't seem to notice or care.  "Well, he's awake if you'd like to come see him," she stated.

"He's awake?"  Sirius asked shakily.

"Yes," she sighed, "we can't seem to get him to fall asleep entirely.  Every time we think we've done it, we move to leave and he opens his eyes again. In any case, you can go see him you'd like; he isn't talking yet, and we're not pushing him to do so."  She paused, letting them soak in this new information.  

"But, wasn't he talking earlier?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Yes, he was for awhile.  He stopped around two hours ago.  Not a word since.  We think it's just too painful for him to keep speaking.  He hasn't made a noise.  He'll tense up, but he won't let any form of sound escape him," she told them sympathetically.  "Has anyone told you anything of his condition yet?" she continued, trying to edge away from that particular topic.

"Yes, we've been told.  Thank you very much," Remus replied sincerely.

The young woman nodded, "He's in Room 293; this way."

"Thank you," and she turned and walked back towards Harry's room.  "Come on, Sirius, let's go see him before we go home."

They already knew what room he was in of course, with all that pacing, probably everybody knew what room the famous Harry Potter was in, but the young woman had been so polite about it that they didn't want to say anything.  As they reached Harry's door, the woman, a nurse named Larna, entered, but Sirius stopped.  

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"I don't think I can do this."

'_Shit,' he thought, but he recovered quickly._

"Of course you can.  It's just Harry; they said he's fine."  When this didn't seem to work, he said, "I'll go in first if you like."

"Yeah, go ahead," said Sirius quietly, and watched Remus enter Harry's quiet room.

But being told of Harry's condition was very different from actually seeing it.  The bruising, the gashes, the swelling, and the devastation all sounded like so much less than they were when a curly haired nurse sits down to discuss it with you after offering you some tea. 

St. Mungo's being a wizarding hospital, magic was the chief source of healing, however, never all healing was done magically.  There were occasionally cases in which Muggle medicine was used.

Even the greatest of healers could not deny that some patients simply weren't stable enough to handle all spells and treatments.

Harry turned out to be one such case.

He was placed in what the wizarding community called 'Mortal Distress,' what Muggles would call an Intensive Care Unit, and there was no wondering why.  

There were thin tubes running from the head of his bed down to his arms, dripping clear liquid from bags into his still hands, one dripping red, presumably into the crook of his arm.  Another tube ran beneath his nose and behind his ears.  Wires ran from his bedside to his forehead and his chest.  It almost made him appear tied down.

_'Were you tied down, Harry?  Were you held down with ropes and spells, unable to use your wand to defend yourself against those that hate you so much?'_ Remus thought in his own strange, poetic way.

White bandages littered his skin, and Remus noted a particularly large one on the back of his neck, still spotting red, as Larna urged the boy to roll to his side.  After over three hours, it was still bleeding.

'_Your injuries run deep, we can all see that, but it's not the physical hurts that you'll carry forever.  The blood will wash away and the wounds will heal.  Scars may lie across the surface, but nobody will see the scars that hurt you the most.  Why didn't we get there **sooner?'**_

Larna, who was probably in her late twenties, bent over the small figure in the lonely bed, resting the back of her hand against his forehead and his cheek.  She whispered to him and he seemed to nod slightly as he lay otherwise still in his bed.  She leaned over him, blond hair falling across her face as she pressed her palm against his back, just below his neck.  Remus noted that she was holding one of Harry's hands as she did this and that his whole arm tensed at her touch, his grip grew tighter, yet he did not move, nor did he make a sound.

_'Such strength in a child; children should not know pain like this.  Nor should they have to fight it as he does.  As I did.'_

Her hand moved slowly down his spine, resting on his lower back when she whispered to him again.  She removed her hand and he released his grip as she reached to his side table for a glass of what looked like water.  She held the drink steady for him, helping him with the straw and he sipped it slowly as she brushed the hair from his forehead.

"That's fine, Harry," she said in soft tones, Remus finally close enough to catch her words.  Taking the glass away from him when he couldn't drink any more, she continued, "Now you just rest.  That will start working soon, but you need to stay relaxed for it to work properly.  Are you comfortable where you're at?"  A minute nod followed that she seemed to accept as she inspected something on his arm.  "We're always here if you need anything, just let us know.  Eleanor or myself will be back to check on you in a little bit."

With a final touch to his hand, she slipped softly from the room, stopping by Remus to quietly urge, "Go ahead.  He's stable for now, but very tired.  A potion for the pain is what is in the glass," she added as she was sure he was curious, "and it will eventually put him to sleep.  He can have a bit more in half an hour if he's not asleep by then."  Remus looked worn and weary, but determined to talk to the boy he also considered a godson.  He took a step forward before she caught his arm.

"Please," she begged, "please don't try to keep him awake.  It's a miracle he's even alive and it's an even bigger miracle that you've been allowed to see him.  Keep watch over him and cheer him if you will, but let him sleep if he desires it.  He's in good hands," she assured, and she slipped past him out the door to speak with Sirius. With a nod of her head some time later, she left the dark haired man standing in the corridor.

Feeling a bit more nervous than he thought he ought to, Remus made his way further into the room, closer to the bed against the far wall.  With wonder, he could see that bruises once covered his skin.  Large traces of the yellow discoloration still tainted his flesh, tracing along his arm that lay over the coverlet; a particularly greenish flaw staining his cheekbone was hardly visible from his stand point mid-room.  

Taking a long breath before finishing the journey to Harry's bedside, he made his way to the curled up figure before him.

Harry was lying on his side, facing away from the door, still unmoving.  His eyes were barely open, and renegade drops of sweat flitted down his pale face and neck.  He was taking quiet, small breaths; so small you could barely make out his chest rising.  From some far away place, Harry could recall that he'd had too many stitches to count overall and, unconsciously, he didn't want to move lest the pain should return full force.  The uncomfortable sounds of so many voices and the feeling of hands upon him, friendly and otherwise, lingered as sleep began to overcome him.  He left his hands to lie in front of him as if he was praying but that wasn't what caught Remus' eye.  Harry wore what looked like a forearm guard Medieval knights and warriors wore but for a few differences.  For starters, this one was purple, slightly shimmery, and had the appearance of being covered in large fish scales.  On it were two sets of numbers, what they meant Remus did not know.  The set of numbers on the left seemed rather high; it read 83 but if this was good or bad, he couldn't tell.  The number on the right was an 8, but its purpose also posed a mystery.  There was no writing on this device and none of the nurses had said anything about it.

Remus finished his approach carefully and sat down in the chair in front of him.  Harry was clearly very much out of it; the potion was obviously doing its job.  He took the younger's hands into his own, lightly rubbing the tape holding the IV's in place, glancing at the information tag around his wrist, and started to speak.

"Hey, Harry," he said quietly, and slowly, Harry's hazy eyes opened enough to look at the man sitting before him, barely recognizing his professor and his father's old friend.  "How are you feeling?" and Harry let his eyes return to their previous state.  "That bad, huh?" and Harry nodded.  He paused.  He truly was at a loss for words so he said the first thing that came to mind.  

"Do you know what happened, Harry?"

A small nod.

"Are you alright?"

No reply.  

"I'm so sorry, Harry," he said emphatically, grazing his hand across his face, "we tried to get to you sooner.  As soon as we heard you were gone we went searching…" 

"R-…Re…m-m-mus…" Harry barely managed to croak out.

"No, Harry, don't.  Don't try to speak, just be quiet."

"R-Re...mus… d-don't…" he tried again, but broke off coughing. He knew deep down that they would never let him be taken without a fight.  

"Okay, Harry, I won't, just please, don't say anything.  Just rest, okay?" he said apologetically.

Harry nodded between his coughs and Remus helped to ease him back into his comfortable position.  

After a bit of a difficult pause, Remus started to rack his brain for anything to get Harry's mind off of his current situation. Feeling uneasy, he said, "Ireland won their last Quidditch game," thinking all the while that it was quite the inappropriate topic for the current situation, but when Harry looked up he knew he had to keep talking.

"Yeah, everyone was going crazy, they were so excited."  Harry's gaze had yet to falter.  "They had been down for a long time by quite a bit, I heard.  But Chekov took a Bludger to the head by Scrafold just as O'Brien aimed for the center hoop. Chekov was out of the game and O'Brien ended up scoring.  Then Townsend came out and caught the snitch in the end to finish the game after four and half hours; two-hundred and sixty points to two-hundred and fifty."

Harry smiled.  He always loved to hear about seekers coming out and winning the impossible games, especially from Remus.  Somehow hearing about the little guy winning it for the team coming from a bit of a social outcast such as Remus always gave him hope, especially when times got hard.  He supposed it made him feel better about himself.  About his situation.

"And Bulgaria won their last game too," he continued, almost desperately.  "Looks like France is out of the running for the Cup.  Viktor got a standing ovation according to _The Daily Prophet,_" Remus added, figuring Harry would be happy to hear about his old friend; he hadn't heard from Krum in awhile, only the short catches he heard through Hermione.  "Do you think those two will be at it again at the World Cup this year?"  Remus asked, desperate to get Harry into the conversation, even if he did it mutely.  He felt like a radio broadcaster from the Muggle world.

Harry made a face and shook his head.  His clarity of mind was returning against the will of his potion, slowly but surely.  Ireland had lost quite a few good players since the last World Cup.  They probably wouldn't be returning any time soon, and while Bulgaria and Viktor Krum were doing famously, they seemed too tired since the Cup to carry on strong enough to race for it again.  

The older man knew this and after giving the younger time to think about this, he bent his mind to try and find some more pieces of information to coax Harry with.

"And you got a letter from Wood the other day," he started, "It came with a letter to Alicia so of course the whole House read it and knows of its contents," and Harry laughed silently at the habits of his peers. "It seems as if he's being scouted for Iceland.  He's been out to see their fields and training and it sounds like he's going to be signing his contract pretty soon.  He's traveling back with them to England this March. He already sent tickets to the match to the entire Gryffindor team and an extra one for you."  Harry's eyes lit up with the possibility of seeing his old friend play professionally; another dream come true.  "He did, however," Remus cut in, "make sure to tell you that you need to watch their seeker closely, of course.  I believe his direct quote was, 'I even managed to scrape an extra ticket for you, Potter, but make sure you don't bring your girlfriend along.  Their seeker is incredible and I don't want you missing any of his movements because you're snogging her under the stands,'" which made Remus' eyes light up with laughter, a laughter that hadn't been allowed since the younger's disappearance.

Harry made a smiling face that said, "That sounds like Wood," and he sighed.  He felt so heavy with exhaustion. 

On that nearly happy note, and clearly at another loss for words, the two found silence once more. However, after some serious deliberation with himself, Remus began speaking again. 

"Harry," he started slowly, "what happened? How did they get you?"

But Harry only looked down again, refusing to look Lupin in the eye. A strange sort of chill seemed to wash over him and he pulled his blankets closer to him, '_As if he's protecting himself,' Remus noted immediately.  Quite suddenly, Harry began coughing again and this time Remus was quick to help soothe the pain that it inflicted._

Laying him back once more, the professor thought of how he hated seeing his young student lying helpless in a hospital bed gasping for air amidst his raw and torn throat.  He would have given anything to get him out, but this wasn't possible. Instead, he opted for a more immediate gratification; he decided to bring in Sirius and reunite the two after traumatic days that felt like millennia.

"Sirius is here," he started carefully, "Do you want me to go get him?" and Harry looked up at him, the faintest of smiles appearing on his lips and he nodded again.  "I'll be right back, okay?"

And so he stood up and walked over to the door where Sirius had been standing; he hadn't heard anything that had been said; he'd been too lost in his own thoughts to eavesdrop.  

"He wants to see you," were Remus' short words and slowly, Sirius made his way into the room, numbly sitting where his best friend had just been.  But seeing Harry again, his eyes closed in rest and his shattered body covered in the faded green hospital blankets, made all of the emotions come back and he took Harry's hands, making him look up once more and he saw his godfather's eyes welling up.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," he whispered, quickly looking down.

But Harry didn't understand and this certainly wasn't what he expected from his godfather.  What did he have to feel sorry for?  Why was he crying? 

He looked up behind Sirius to where Remus was standing, his brow lightly furrowed in confusion.  Remus gave him a look that said, "I'll tell you later" and Harry nodded again in slight understanding.  

He shifted his hands so that he could take one of Sirius' and his godfather looked up.  Harry was giving him a smile that said, "It's okay.  Everything is alright," and Sirius smiled too, but now the tears were really coming.  "I have to go," he said quickly, and left the room without another word.

"He's been really upset ever since you disappeared," Remus told him after a moment's pause, sitting down in the chair once more.  "He's the one that saw you first and brought you here.  You really scared him.  He didn't think you'd make it."   He paused again; Harry sighed.  "He loves you very much, you know.  We all do," and now Harry's eyes were welling up. 

Remus brushed some of Harry's wet hair off of his forehead, placing it behind his ear as Harry took in a ragged breath.  Remus gave him a minute before continuing.  Harry was closing his eyes, probably trying to hide the tears, or maybe his potion was finally kicking in.  

"Sirius and I have to go home for the night but we'll be back tomorrow, okay?"  Harry nodded.  "The Weasleys and Hermione already know you're here.  Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie were with us when we found you.  I'm sure Ron has exhausted them for all information and that he's told Hermione by now."  Remus waited again, allowing all of the news to sink in before he finished.  "Do you want them to come and visit tomorrow or the day after, or do you want us to have them wait until you feel a little better?"

But Harry didn't reply.  Exhausted beyond belief, he had finally fallen asleep, all looks of pain and confusion momentarily forgotten from his features.  Remus smiled and pulled his covers up, kissing him lightly on the temple, and quietly left him to regaining the rest that he had so dearly earned.

As the door clicked softly behind him, Harry opened his eyes and smiled again before falling into what would be a quiet, peaceful, sleep.

~*~

*So what do you think?  I know I sort of write in circles (if you haven't noticed).  Is it too confusing that way, or are you still with me? (I'm hoping for the latter!)  Drop me a line and let me know what's on your mind! (Hey, that rhymed! Awesome!) And don't worry, the plot will pick up soon.

**_*Review Reviews*:_** (I love doing these!)

_NightSpear_:  I'm glad you like it so far! And as for Stevens, I'm thinking he's the kind of guy that's a bit jaded by his job, but oddly still really into it.  As long as the patients walk out healthy, the "idiot" families don't matter.  And as for whether Sirius is cleared or not, that's coming up in a bit! :D And thanks for letting me know I've got Harry's birthday right! Lol!

_Usagichan_:  I know you didn't post it but you e-mailed it to me! (I think!) lol! But thanks for reading it and giving me feedback!! You rock, my sistah! And when is "The One" getting updated? When? When? When?! Lol! You know I'm waiting for it! *taps foot impatiently* haha! Just kidding! As long as there's more by Christmas, I'll be a happy woman!

_Tayce_:  Hope you're still out there and I hope you still like it!

_Anybody else that's reading "Tell It"_:  Hi! I'm glad you're reading my little piece -o- work and I hope you keep reading it! You guys keep the world of fanfiction going!  Just don't be afraid to drop me a line… that little "Go" button down there… it won't nail you with the Cruciatus Curse if you press it ya know! :D  And I won't either! Lol! 

Laters!

~Tini :D


	4. The Stranger

**_August 25, 2003_****__**

**_Disclaimer:_** I, _TiniTinuviel_, am in no way associated with Ms. J.K Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Bros. Harry Potter and all of it's characters, etc. belong, in turn, to all of the aforementioned parties and their subsidiaries. I claim nothing save for the particular plot of this piece of fan fiction and selected characters.

**_*Authors Note:_**  Hi all! Whoo hoo! I got this one out faster than the others! And it's all because of you guys!  (And especially for you, _Tayce_!) You do not know how happy I was when I was reading the reviews for Chapter 3! I think I got as many for just that chapter as I had total before I posted it! (If that makes any sense…) Anywhoo!  I don't really have anything to say before we start, other than I hope you enjoy it, and review reviews are at the bottom!  So without any further ado, I give you Chapter Four of _Tell it to My Face!_

~*~

Harry woke up in the very early hours of the morning, feeling hazy and horrible.  He kept his eyes closed, unsure of where he was.  It didn't feel like his bed, any of them for that matter.  His bed at the Dursley's was too small and lumpy with springs that continuously poked him in the spine.  His bed at 12 Grimmauld Place was the perfect combination of soft and firm, but his room there still smelled a bit musty and this place was definitely clean.  It couldn't have been his bed at Hogwarts; that bed was his favorite.  High from the floor and you sunk right into it, the four posters towering above you and the constant reminder from the snores around the room that you were surrounded by friends.  This bed had none of those qualities.  It was comfortable, yes, but still felt a bit stiff, as if it wasn't being used for long periods of time. 

He could hear people speaking from a distance, but he couldn't make anything out; his ears were still cloudy.  Something was making his hands throb and deep down he daren't move; something told him it wouldn't feel very good.  And when something cool touched his arm, he started and instinctively tried to move away.

"Oh, Harry!" a woman's voice said, "You startled me!  I didn't think you were awake…"

Where had he heard that voice from? It wasn't one of those clearly recognizable voices like Mrs. Weasley's, and it wasn't young like Hermione.  In fact, looking up, this woman looked nothing like either of them. She seemed as if she'd be taller than him when standing and she had dark brown hair with eyes to match.  A kind face and a fair complexion, with her eyebrows currently knitted as she continued to speak.  She had a beautifully plain appearance and reached to his forehead with one of her soft hands, sitting lightly on the edge of his bed.

"…and it seems as if your fever is coming down.  We were a bit nervous about that.  Are you hungry?" she asked spontaneously, totally throwing Harry into almost a state of shock.  

"Sorry?" he croaked.

"Oh, that's good.  How's your throat feeling?" she continued.

"Where am I?" he managed to rasp out, suddenly understanding the throat question.  He could hear beeps now, location of origin unknown, and he couldn't see much beyond the woman that remained at his side; he wished he knew where his glasses were.

"You're in the hospital, love.  St. Mungo's, in London.  Your glasses are right here on the table if you want them," but she made no move to give them to him.  "You gave us quite a fright last night.  Do you remember what happened?"  He thought as hard as his tired mind would, but not much was coming to him.  He went to shake his head no, but stopped when he felt a sharp pain run through his spine.  "Oh, yes, don't do that," she quickly stated, "It'd be better to talk if you can; you haven't finished healing yet.  I don't think I've seen that much Dark Magic on one person before…"

_Dark Magic._

_Dark.___

_ It was black inside the room.  The only light came from a fireplace in the far wall that was blocked from his view.  He looked up from where he lay heaped on the floor to stare into a white mask._

"Harry?"  He snapped back into the present, more awake now that he had something to tell.  This couldn't be good.  He couldn't remember very much, but that image alone convinced him that something was seriously wrong.

"Sorry?" he croaked again.

"I asked how you were feeling.  Do you have a headache?  Does anything hurt?"

"What time is it?" he asked instead, feeling a strong urge to talk to somebody he knew.

"It's about 3:30 in the morning, why?"

He sighed. Everybody would be sleeping right now.

"Harry?"

"I'm tired," he admitted quietly, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep himself.

"Well there's no wonder why," she said to herself.  "I just came in to check you over real quick and then I'll be out of your way."

He nodded soundlessly, wondering to himself what this inspection was going to entail and who he should tell about the flash of memory that resounded in his head.

"Your professor and your godfather were here earlier," she started as she peeled back his bandages slowly, peering at the wounds beneath.  Checking on his scar, she noticed it had scabbed well.  They had been unsure if they should heal it entirely or leave it be; they had decided on the latter, hoping it was the better choice.  "Do you remember talking to them?" 

He didn't, but abruptly felt ashamed.  He cheeks flushed a deep scarlet and his chest burned with feeling. 

"What is it?" she inquired quickly, not missing his change in demeanor or color.  He didn't answer.  "They were fine, just concerned."  He flushed an even deeper red.  Now she understood.  "Harry, it's not your fault; you've done nothing wrong." but he wasn't listening.  "Harry, all they wanted to do was protect you.  It's their job. They wouldn't have stood outside your door for over three hours if they didn't seriously care about you.  And they wouldn't be much of a family either."

'_Maybe,' he thought distantly, but felt more than anything else that they shouldn't have to chase him around and protect him.  '_They should be able to live normal lives; I'm only making things worse for them.  If only Voldemort had succeeded then they wouldn't have to worry anymore.'_ But these thoughts didn't feel right for more reasons than one and that random memory told him something really bad had happened to him.  He had a feeling that he needed to talk to somebody, somebody specific and important, but couldn't recall who or why.  He closed his eyes with thought as she continued to check him over._

Gladly, she noted that his neck wound had also scabbed entirely, although it was wide and horrible looking.  They would finish healing that later in the day.  No scar would show from that particular injury.  The green tinge in his cheek was fading and she touched it lightly; he flinched in return.  She quietly cast a spell on it, taking most of its tenderness away in an instant.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"Mmm hmm," he replied with his eyes still closed, still feeling the sting she had inflicted.

Unconvinced, but knowing the pain wouldn't last, she pulled down his blankets and lifted his shirt up, exposing his back.  He shivered with the cool blast of air that struck him as she used her eyes and her fingers to guide her along his spine.  It was littered with scratches and yellow discoloration.  Large, scabbed gashes ran from side to side, purpled on the edges and uneven.  It was a spell she'd seen before and one she wanted outlawed.  A whipping curse, and apparently it had been applied by someone with a great amount of power.  It had caused so much damage, yet his capture had kept him alive.  It was a very strange occurrence.  Why would they do that?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and moved to lift his shirt to look at his chest.  Her cool fingers searched along again, chilling and making him feel rather uncomfortable. 

"My name is Eleanor," she said suddenly, seeing his discomfort at having a strange women feeling his chest.  "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself when you first woke up.  How rude of me," she berated herself.

"It's okay," he replied.  "Um, how old are you?" he asked, trying to keep her talking so he could distract himself.

"Well who wants to know?" she teased with a smile, lowering his shirt again after checking a scrap on his hip.  "I'm 36.  I suppose I'm freaking you out with all of my poking and prodding.  Do you want me to keep talking?" and a thankful nod confirmed her suspicions.  She nodded with understanding, continuing her inspection.  "I've been a nurse for twelve years, even though they like us to refer to ourselves as 'Healer Assistants.'  A ridiculous title if you ask me," she continued with a nonchalant air as she looked over his arms.  "It's such a mouthful and 'Nurse' sounds more dignified anyway," she finished with a smile and a wink.  He smiled in turn.  "Your other nurses are Kyren and Larna.  Do you remember them?"

"I don't think so," he said cautiously as she stripped him entirely of his covers, raising the legs of his hospital trousers.

"Well that's alright.  They'll be in later to check on you.  I'm sure you'll meet them in no time.  Your knees look much better now, by the way.  How do they feel?"

"Good, I suppose," he answered, testing them out, swallowing hard and closing his eyes again.

"That's good.  Inspection passed this time around, sir," she said, glancing at his forearm guard and covering him back up.  "Do you have a headache?" she asked again.

"Yeah," he said slowly, bringing a hand to his face.

"Here," she said quietly, reaching for the water-like potion and placing the straw against his lips.  "Drink this; it will make some of the pain go away, headaches included."

"Good," he replied sipping it slowly, being careful not to spit it back out.  Now that he was a bit more conscious, he realized it tasted like something unpleasantly familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Now just try and get some rest.  Wounds heal better when backed by sleep.  Is there anything I can get for you before I go?" she asked.

He shook his head no, having had his fill of the potion, but then stopped.  

"I think I need to talk to somebody," he said, unsure of how it sounded.

"Anybody in particular?" she inquired.

"I don't know…"  She could see how troubled he looked and his uncertainty that lay beneath it, so she made his decision for him:

"Well, just get some sleep and maybe you'll remember when you wake up."

"Okay," he replied, and she stood up to go.  After dimming the lights and closing the door, he slowly fell into what he thought would be another bout of dreamless rest.

~*~

It took Sirius a good hour once he and Remus got home before he could bring himself to get cleaned up.  Remus had sat with him in the living room when they arrived but he had left some time ago.  When exactly, or where to, he wasn't sure.  He slowly rose from his somber seat, almost mechanically walking through the archway, glimpsing Remus sitting at the kitchen table reading papers, resting his head on one of his hands, before he headed up the stairs on his left.

'_Up the stairs.__  Turn right.  First door on the right,' he told himself as he went.  Without looking up, he made the few steps to the sink, refusing to look himself in the eye in the mirror.  He knew it would unleash more of the tears that he held back and he couldn't do it.  He had to be strong. _

Looking down, he decided to start with his hands.  Picking up the soap that lay untainted on the rim of the sink, he scrubbed at his godson's blood that stained his knuckles, his palms, his fingers and the backs of his hands.  It wasn't coming off.  The harder he scrubbed, the more he scratched at it with his fingernails, the more there seemed to be.  It refused to come off.  He scoured his hands with all his might, desperately trying to hold back his sobs, yet the innocence of Harry's life refused to allow his hands to return to their natural color.  It was almost as if they were scorning him. 

_"If only you had gotten there sooner none of this would have happened!"_

_"Good job, Sirius.  You could've killed the last of the Potters tonight!"_

_"What would James and Lily have said?"_

_"He was counting on you to protect him and you blew it!"_

The bar of soap slipped from his grasp and splashed into the sink full of water and he braced himself as a fresh wave of tears overcame him and he sank to his knees, sobbing into his blood stained hands.

"I d-didn't mean to… I got there as… s-s-soon as I could… I'd never let anything h-happen to him… I l-love him… I'm sorry…" he let out in broken gasps to the wind.  

Suddenly he felt an arm drop around his shoulders.  Remus had heard him from downstairs where he was hiding his own misery amidst his students' homework and he now wrapped his arms around his old friend, embracing him as only a brother can and together they cried on the white tile floor, salty tears being absorbed and dispersed into the shoulders of each others robes until they held no more tears to cry.

And after what seemed like ages, the two men began to regain their composure and they uncertainly released each other, drifting apart to lean on opposite sides of the bathroom, embarrassed by the feelings they let show.  When they finally got the courage to look each other in the eyes, they laughed.  Their faces were red, eyes puffy, they looked like bright pink bunnies; they couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry," Sirius whispered somberly when the laughter had ceased as Remus easily flicked a scourging charm towards his hands.

"For what?  What are you talking about?" Remus prompted through a sniffle, a wipe of his eye, and a small remnant of a smile.

"For acting like this; for crying all the time," he sighed, gazing at his unjustly spotless hands.  "I know I'm supposed to be strong…"

"Sirius stop," Remus cut in. "We're all worried about Harry.  There is nothing wrong with the way that you're acting.  So many people cry, Sirius-"

"You don't-"

"Where have you been for the last twenty minutes?" he cut in incredulously.  "Were we not both sitting here crying?  I mean look at us!  Two grown men, Marauders nonetheless, sitting in corners on a bathroom floor _both crying!" he said through a ragged breath with a smile.  "If only James could see us now, huh? '_Look at you two little pussies, the original prankster and the werewolf, crying like babies with stubbed  toes!_'" he said in his best James impression and Sirius laughed into his chest, his back rubbing against the rill of the bathtub, but Remus grew serious again.  "Honestly, James was the bravest person I've ever known next to you, and _he_ would have cried if he'd seen his son like we have.  We all would have sat in here and cried, you and me and James and Lily.  We wouldn't have gone down and sat on the couch to do it, oh no!  We'd have sat up here in the bathroom because we wouldn't be bright enough to do it somewhere more comfortable or appropriate!" he added, just for the satisfaction of hearing Sirius laugh one more time._

"Do you think the Weasleys have been dry-eyed all this time?" he continued.  "Harry's like a son to them too, just like he is to us! Probably more so since they've known him longer.  And Ron and Hermione?  They almost lost their best friend again tonight!  _Again!  How often does this happen to them?  They don't deserve it any more than he does!  You can't blame yourself for this happening… no one can."_

"I could have been there with him.  I could have protected him!"

"Sirius, no one could have stopped those Death Eaters on the platform even if we had known about it.  No one could have predicted it; no one could have prevented it.  You couldn't expect three people to stop them and I'm sorry Sirius but even if you were there it probably wouldn't have done any good.  You couldn't expect that they'd be after him, not after all of the recent attacks."

"But I could have protected him!"

"But you could have died!"

"Harry could have died!" he shouted, which was much louder than he had intended.  Subconsciously his fingers were in his hair, pulling at it and he rocked himself the bathroom floor, tears threatening to rain onto his already soiled clothes.  _'Where are they all coming from?' he thought.  '_I have nothing left to give!'__

Remus fell silent.  There was nothing to say.  Sirius was right.  Harry could have died.  '_He still could_,' his conscience told him, '_just because he's in the hospital doesn't mean that he's perfectly well again._'  And the tired professor sat silently against the door frame; the wind making the old house moan was the only sound.  

_'Was there more we could have done?  Could we have known they would be after him? Well of course we knew they were after him, but we didn't know when or where…  We did what we could and we did a good job of it,_' he told himself and spoke out to Sirius to confirm his own feelings.

"No one saw it coming, Sirius.  There was nothing we could do but chase after him and hope to find him before it was too late.  And we did that.  You did that."

And deep down, while neither wanted to believe they had done everything in their power, bits of what had been said and unsaid hit home with both men and Sirius nodded, sniffing against the back of his hand and wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve.

Remus checked his watch, sighed, and turned to his long time companion.  "Are you going to be okay?  I have to get to Hogwarts before classes start.  They'll need their Defense teacher and Lord knows they've had enough.  If I don't show up on time it might cause a panic," he added with a grin.

"Yeah," Sirius replied with a smile as they both stood up from the corners they had fallen to.

"Just let me know if anything happens, alright?"

"You'll be the first to know," he replied as he walked his friend to his room so he could change clothes. But something starting gnawing at him as he sat in the hallway and continued to bother him as they trudged down the stairs minutes later to the front door.  It had been bothering him for awhile now.  _"No one saw it coming…"  It just didn't seem right.  If Voldemort was out to kill Harry, wouldn't Snape have known?  _'No, if he knew he'd have told us a long time ago,_' the man thought.  __'He may not like us, but he would have told us about something like this.  'There's something missing.  Something's not right about this.'  But after a moments pondering and a good-bye to his old friend, he forced the thoughts aside and went to work at wiping Harry's dried blood off of his face and out of his hair.  The task proved easier than his hands, most likely due to the fact that much of the stress he had been feeling had been released in the last hour.  Plus, he had a feeling that Remus had cast another cleaning charm at him so that it would come off easier._

He went to his room and changed his stained clothes feeling more drained than he had ever felt in his life and slowly, he crawled into bed where he tried to fall asleep to the crackling of a warm, winter fire.

But that horrible thought.  _"No one could have predicted it.  No one could have prevented it."  Still it lingered and refused to give him rest._

~*~

No more than an hour had passed after Harry had fallen asleep in his bed than the visions began.

Harry found himself in a room he'd seen before; the tall chair in the center, the fireplace on one wall and the snake that slithered around the room, unchecked by anyone.  But this time, it wasn't a quiet malevolence that filled the room, but an overpowering force that washed over him from where he watched the scene before him in a quiet corner of the room, unseen by any.

"How could they have found us?!  That location was secure!  And how can I trust you to help me take down that blasted fortress if I can't even trust you to be a lookout for the Aurors?!  PATHETIC!"  Voldemort roared at two of his followers, their faces unseen, shadowed by their hoods and the fireplace behind them.

"We're sorry, Master.  We beg your forgiveness…" they said pitifully.  And their shadows flickered and shuddered against the opposing wall.

"Of all of the followers that I've lost in fourteen years I don't see how you two bumbling idiots managed to escape Azkaban, or to survive at all! LUCIUS!" he bellowed to the door, his voice still cold and full of malice. 

"Yes, Master?" a voice said as the door clicked open.

"Take these two downstairs.  Get them out of my sight."

"NO!!" the men cried.  "Please, Master!  We're sorry!  It won't happen again!  We swear!" but already Lucius was dragging them out the door, physically and magically, as they kicked and screamed down the stairs of the old house.  "_NO!!"_

But Voldemort shut out their pathetic cries and began stalking his room.

"Idiotic little rodents," he cursed under his breath, twirling his wand in his fingers, rather like a baton.  "They can't do _anything right!  I should just kill them and be done with it! Arg!  I could have HAD the Potter boy tonight, dead within arms reach instead of having to sit around and wait for the morning __Prophet's headline but NO!  Those two _morons_ had to screw everything up!" and he ruthlessly stabbed his wand towards the ground and instantly there was a flash of icy blue light and the blood-curdling screams of the two men rose through the floorboards to Voldemort's expecting ears. _

He continued his rant, pacing his circle, Nagini watching on expectantly.  He never failed to add an occasional jab of his wand to the floor, always emitting the most horrible, painful screams that ever reached Harry's ears. But in the midst of his favorite pacifying exercise, he stopped.  

A new figured had mysteriously and soundlessly appeared in the room and wasted no time in approaching the Dark Lord.  He was shroud in mystery; his clothing was unrecognizable and his face remained hidden.  He stopped only when their faces were inches from each others, neither backing down, not until a voice shattered the electrified silence.

"He is not dead."

"That's impossible. There is physically no way that he could have survived," Voldemort passed off with ease, pacing calmly away from the newcomer.

"Yes, well, he's managed it," the deep voice said, full of hostility and controlled anger, turning to follow him with his words.  "Now what do you have to say for yourself? And don't even try to blame this on your idiotic little followers; you should have them within your power by now."

Voldemort turned back to him.  "Well how about the fact that you arrived twenty minutes early?" he hissed with just as much venom.

"You're point being?"

"I had twenty minutes to do with him what I pleased!" he argued.

"And what were you trying to do?  Let him catch hypothermia before you killed him?" the voice asked incredulously, sitting in the chair before the fire.

"I was trying to make him scared!  I wanted to hear the little rat beg for mercy like his parents did before I killed them!"

"You and your need for revenge!" he spat.  "You can scare that child all you want but he will never beg for your mercy.  He's too headstrong for an action like that."

"He will beg my mercy by the time this war is out!"

"He will be _dead by the time this war is out!" he raged, "He should have been dead hours ago but because of your stupidity he has escaped your grasp again!  I tire of that boy slipping through your fingers!  Just kill the little rodent and be done with it!  You can touch him now so just do it!" he shouted, not holding back the obvious force of his power._

"But now that I have the ability to touch him, that his mother's blood flows through my veins as well, I think I'd like to have a bit more fun with him," his snake-like voice slithered forth.

"Fun?  When we made this arrangement we agreed that I would have the final say in all matters, and this is my final word: You. Will. Kill. Him. The. Next. Time. He. Is. Handed. To. You."

"No."

He was taken aback.  "Excuse me?" '_How dare he assume to defy me?'_

"No.  I've got the power now and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"That's what you think.  I gave you your power and I have the ability to take it all back.  You weren't the one to find the potion that brought you back to life and you must know that there is a counter potion for it.  Don't think that I won't use it against you."

"Ha! I doubt that.  And even if a counter existed, you wouldn't dare use it," he stated arrogantly, but the beginnings of his nerves were starting to show.

"I would, and I will."  There was no jest in the mysterious voice.  It was solid and hard.

He laughed mirthlessly.  "You need me too much to do something as foolhardy as that."

"Foolhardy?  Such strong words from an insolent little snake.  Tell me, do you try hard to defy me or are you just unwise enough to not hold your tongue?  Especially when I hold your undoing in the pocket of my robes?"

The Dark Lord stopped.  Usually he never held for idle threats, but this stranger was a different matter entirely.  While true, the Dark Lord never knew his identity, this stranger had been key in his uprising.  But this stranger was also very smart.  He was always on top of things; he was a most helpful backer and spy.  Lord Voldemort didn't doubt that this stranger could be posing as one of his very own followers, watching to be certain that his investment of time, information and aid wasn't going to waste.  After a pause of thought, the Dark Lord stopped, stooping to one knee and bending low in a bow of respect and recognition.

The stranger stood and began to circle him.  "You have caused more problems for me than you've been worth, _Lord Voldemort_," he said with a sneer, "and now that you've told him that you can navigate perfectly through Hogwarts we have another problem on our hands.  We'll never be able to secure the hidden passageways once that blasted headmaster is told."

_'That was it!'_

The voice fell silent for awhile, taking up Voldemort's pacing as the once formidable Dark Lord stayed kneeling on the hardwood floor, visibly shaken, but his anger was still as evident as ever.

"But I'll give you one more chance, Riddle," the voice said after a long, weighted pause.  "Just one.  If you can't rid me of that mindless little pain in the ass the next time I help you out, then I will be forced to rid myself of _you."_

And with a snap of his fingers and a flinch from the now checked Dark Lord, the mysterious voice was gone.

As the Dark Lord roared in anger Harry was forced awake, cold sweat dripping from his face, his pillows damp. 

"Harry? Harry what is it?" Eleanor asked, striding quickly into his room where he was sitting up in bed.

"Dumbledore," he gasped, "I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

~*~

So whatcha think?  I'm sorry if some of it was choppy.  I really wanted to get this out before school starts ~ahem~ today.  So if something about it was absolutely wretched, let me know so I can fix it! Lol!

Review Reviews!

**_NightSpear_**:  Whoo hoo!! You still like it! (You don't know how excited it makes me to know people like this! Lol!)  I'm glad that my descriptions were groovey and I'm sorry about all my fragments.  I'm probably driving you nuts by now!  I don't really know about Harry having a girlfriend.  It was just something I thought Wood would do, grab a spare ticket for the youngest and joke about it… so I put it in.  (Or maybe I just wanted to hear him say the word "Snogging." Hmm…) And "Awesomely" is now officially a word in my book… right there next to "Groovitudiness!" A word all my own! :D

**_Sylphide_**: All right! Another new reader! Yay! I'm sorry I confused you, but I hope that this chapter cleared up the Evil Dumbledore thought! Glad you like it and I hope to see you again!

**_Tayce_**:  This totally got out faster because of you! *gives you BIG, **_HUGE_ hug!* I totally know the 'checking the fanfic every day to see if it's updated thing' but I didn't really think anybody cared about this one that much so that's part of why I was going slow! But now I have INSPIRATION!! It is you! Lol! And I'm sooo glad that I haven't lost you with my circular writing style! (You're the only one that replied to that, by the way!)  I don't know when the next chapter will be up since school starts tomorrow (well, now it's today), but if you want me to e-mail you when I update, just drop me a line at amimegan@sailormoon.com. **

**_ParanoiaIn2005_**:  Thanks!  It's good to hear that you think I've written emotions well!  (I have been worried about it at times!) And you're a lucky one! Getting a new chapter this early! Glad to have you reading! 

And of course!

**_USAGICHAN!!_**  Yes, this was a chapter you have already read, but it had a LOT more detail and new additions to it! (Your old memory hasn't failed you yet! *wink*) And same with this one! Lots of new stuff!  But I don't know if I'm going to continue with the stuff you've already seen… this fic is sort of coming alive, in a sense, and straying from the original thoughts! Wha oh! Lol! So, we'll have to see if things stay the same or not!  And I was so psyched for more of "The One!" Keep those coming too! 

**_And for everyone else out there in fandom_**:  Thanks again for reading! We're all out looking for stories that entertain us, or move us, or just flat out give us something to do, and I'm glad that this one may have helped to fulfill that need!  Drop me a line if the inspiration should strike you, and hopefully there will be more story soon!

With love forever and always,

      ~TiniTinuviel :D


	5. Distressing News

**_November 8, 2003_****__**

**_Disclaimer:_**  I, _TiniTinuviel_, am in no way associated with Ms. J.K Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Bros.  Harry Potter and all of it's characters, etc. belong, in turn, to all of the aforementioned parties and their subsidiaries. I claim nothing save for the particular plot of this piece of fan fiction and selected characters, namely Eleanor, Kyren Whitford, and Larna. 

**_*Author Notes*:  _**Holy crap, it's been like what, two months?  I am soooo sorry!  But I have good reasons!  I wasn't kidding when I said that homework was beating me to a bloody pulp!  Add working on two theatre productions at the same time and you end up with a very disgruntled and bitter Tini! (Not a good thing…) But! I have managed to secure time this weekend to finish writing this chapter and posting it for all of you because I love you all sooooooooo much! So I won't waste any more of your time with my ramblings!  Go! Read! :D

~*~

"Wait, what? Harry, calm down."

"No, I need to speak with him right away!  It's an emergency!"

Sitting up in bed, Harry was quickly calling out his plea.  Panicked and breathing quickly, Eleanor could barely make out his words as his hands reached for both his head and his chest.

"No Harry, what's an emergency right now is that all of your monitors are off the charts now you need to calm down, take a deep breath.  Just relax for a second," she said, turning the volume down on the screens.  Swiftly, she sat down on the edge of his bed, lightly trying to pull his hands down but to no avail.  "Now, what's going on?"

"He knows how to get in.  They're going to come for Hogwarts.  Soon.  We have to hurry and tell them before it's too late."

"Who?"

"The Professors!  Please Eleanor, we have to hurry!"

"Is this what you couldn't-"

"Yes! Can we please just…" he trailed off, close to agonized tears swelled with pain and frustration.  Suddenly, everything disappeared and he bent over double in his bed. 

"Whoa, Harry, okay" she said, grabbing at him as quickly as he began to fall.  Leaning him against her side, she placed her fingers against his throat, feeling his pulse pounding beneath the tips.  His face was ashen, forehead holding a cold sweat that lingered against her open palm.  Not fearing anything to be seriously wrong, she sat holding him up, rocking him back into coherency.  "Don't worry, we'll get them here.  Just relax," she soothed.  Pushing the nurse call button, Larna strode in almost immediately.

"Hey, what's going on?" she asked as the scene unfolded before her.  "Is everything alright?" 

"Can you go get Professor Dumbledore, please?" Eleanor asked without hesitation, and with a glance at Harry added, "and his godfather, too, I think."

"Of course," she replied and left just as quickly as she had arrived.  

"What is it?" Eleanor asked after a moment.

"I don't know," he sniffed, picking his head up from her shoulder.  "Everything just went black really quickly."

"Your blood count's low.  See that transfusion in your arm? You need to take it easy for awhile; your body can't handle you being so worked up yet."

He nodded.  

"You alright?" she asked softly, inspecting his face with her eyes, "Does anything hurt?"

"Yeah," he said plainly, and fought to focus on his lap.

"Well, I didn't mean like that," she stuttered, embarrassed, "you know, obviously… but-" 

"Yeah," he agreed.  He knew exactly what she meant.

"Do you feel sick?  Headache?  Dizzy?" she asked.

He murmured a yes, a hand drawn firmly to head, the other hanging limply at his side.

She glanced at his right hand lying dully on the covers, open and still, and returned her gaze to the hand at eye level.  Fighting vainly to rub away the headache, all she could do was watch on in pity.  After a moment she spoke out.

"Just lay back and rest, love.  I want you to stay as calm and as still as possible until they get here.  They should arrive at any minute.  I'm going to go downstairs and wait for them, so they don't get lost on the way up.  Is that alright with you?"  She didn't want to leave him alone if he didn't want it.

"Sure," he said, still clutching his forehead and slowly returned to his curled position on his side as she eased him down.  She placed her fingers on his back lightly, rubbing them along his spine, feeling the welted scabs that lay just beneath his thin shirt and said, "Don't worry.  I'll be right back," and she was gone.

Doing as she said, he lay perfectly still, rubbing his forehead in an effort to make the pain go away.  His vision swam in and out of focus, blackening and returning to normal in a continuous cycle.  His right arm was tingling and he distantly thought, '_What a time for my arm to fall asleep_.'  But more than that, he was thinking about school.  Images of his friends and the massacre that could happen at Hogwarts lingered dangerously in his mind.  He could see the portraits burning and the students fleeing in fear.  Another basilisk roaming freely, killing any who were foolish enough to gaze into its eyes.  The professors fighting vainly to keep the Death Eaters and Dementors at bay, but who knew how many there were now?  There could be thousands!  They would overrun Hogwarts as if it was nothing.  Few would survive, others would be imprisoned.  He could see his dead classmates piled on the grounds near Hagrid's hut and the beasts of the forest coming to look on, or worse yet, to eat.  The faces of his friends drifted to the front of his mind, somber and pleading.  

_'Professor Dumbledore won't let anything happen to them,' _he chided himself_. 'They'll be fine.  Just don't think about it,' he kept telling himself_.  'Just don't think about it.'_   _

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore said, "Harry?"  He nearly jumped out of his skin.  He hadn't even heard the wizened old man enter, and here he was, sitting right if front of him, a hand resting lightly on his arm.

He looked up through hazy vision, the old wizard looked down, spectacles making everything clear.  "How are you feeling?  They wouldn't let us in earlier.  We could see you, but weren't allowed in here."

Harry just shook his head.  He couldn't be bothered with formalities or how he was feeling.  His friends and his home were in danger.  Instead, he let the words pour out, washing over each other likes the waves of the sea.  He told him everything he remembered from the dream, right to the very last detail.  When he was finished, Dumbledore hummed softly, thinking deeply before finally saying, "Don't worry about it.  The school will stay as safe as always, even more so now, thanks to you.  I'll send an owl to the Weasley twins.  See if I can get that map of theirs to make sure all the passageways are blocked."

Harry looked at him in awe.  _He knew about the Marauder's Map?_

"I may not know every passage in the castle, but I know what my students are up to," he supplied with a wink, not missing the dumbstruck look on Harry's face.  "I've known about the Marauder's Map ever since The Marauders made it. It was always so much more entertaining to let them keep it than to take it away."

"You better look in my trunk then.  Fred and George gave it to me about three years ago," he choked out.

"Of course.  How could I have forgotten?" He paused for a bit, thinking back on all of the trouble that Harry and his friends had gotten into that they wouldn't have achieved without the illustrious map.  But when he looked up, he was a shocked.  The younger's eyes were closed tightly and he was breathing rapidly.  "Harry, are you feeling alright?" he asked quickly, "You're as white as a ghost." He reached a hand up to Harry's forehead.  Dumbledore said something else but Harry couldn't understand a word through the pain.  All he knew was that his headache suddenly became unbearably worse.

~*~

"Where is he?" Sirius asked as he walked swiftly down the hallway, taking off his scarf as he went with Eleanor trailing behind him.

"He's still in his room.  He was feeling off when I left him but he should be fine." '_It's amazing_,' she thought, _'just how quickly Harry's godfather seems to switch emotions_.'  Indeed Sirius was all business with this new worry washing upon him, but not one to entice the tears again.

But as they approached Room 293, it was to the sight of Kyren, Larna and both of Harry's doctors rushing into his room.

"Oh God," Sirius murmured and they both pelted down the remaining corridor to the window of Harry's room.  He was convulsing, seizing violently while they milled around him, trying to find some way to ease him. Sirius pushed his way into the room and straight for Harry's bedside, taking his hand with his left and placing his right on his forehead.  "What's happening?"  

"We don't know yet," one of the doctors said quickly.

"It's a seizure for sure, but from what we don't know," Larna added.

"Step back," Eleanor told him quietly, pulling him back towards the wall.  "They can't work if you're standing right there."

Sirius did as he was told and watched apprehensively as one of the doctors put a syringe-worth's full of fluid into his IV, trying anything they could think of to make him stop.  

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, the seizure stopped and Harry gave a loud gasp of air, eyes wide in shock.  He fought to breathe normally but just as suddenly as it had stopped, his emerald eyes rolled back and he fell lifeless back into his pillows once more.

"Harry!" Sirius cried, stepping forward once more.

"No, Sirius," she said, grabbing his arm, "just let them do their job.  You'll have plenty of time to see him."  

And so he stood against the wall, Eleanor at his side, and watched as they continued to circle him, slowly bringing him back to life.  A small gasp of air signified his awakening and one of the men, Dr. Gibbs started asking him little questions, like "What is your name,"  "How old are you," and "Do you know where you are?" while the others continued bustling about.  But Harry wasn't responding.  He just lay in his bed mutely, uncomprehending, looking small and exhausted.  His eyes gave nothing away; they were completely blank.

"Let's get him in for a MRI," Dr. Jules stated, "and call for an ECG and an x-ray." They began taking Harry off of every machine in the room, letting all of the spells down that surrounded him, and began to wheel him out of the room.  Sirius started off the wall again.

"No!" he said as Eleanor pulled him back for the third time, "I will not leave him again!" but another arm pulled him back as well.  

"Sirius, just wait." He turned to see Professor Dumbledore standing further back, concern filling his voice.   "She's right.  They need room to work."

"Why can't we just follow?  Surely there's nothing wrong with that?" he pleaded.

"We can follow.  We just need to stay out of the way," she explained.

"That's fine," Sirius said, "I can do that.  I don't want him out of my sight again."

"Let's go then," she said and the three of them made their way quickly down the hallway, following in the wake of the doctors and nurses.

~*~

What seemed like ages later, Harry was brought back to his room.  Sirius and Dumbledore stayed with him while Eleanor and the other hospital staff broke off into another room to discuss the lab results.  Harry was sleeping but they weren't sure whether to be happy or upset about that.  Sirius sat at his bedside, holding his hand as he slept, gazing at the strange purple guard on his arm, while Dumbledore sat at a small, round table at the opposite end of the room.

"I'm sure he'll be fine Sirius," Dumbledore said quietly, their conversations on a much more subdued and brief level since the incident.

"How can you be sure?" he asked sadly.

"With all that Harry's gotten in to, he's always come out just fine.  Nothing has ever held him down before.  Why should anything hold him down now?"

"But everything in the past was external.  This was his body against himself.  It's an entirely different matter."

"That's very true," he replied with a sigh.  He looked down at the table in front of him.  In the silence he could hear the spells at work, the young boy's and Sirius's breathing, and his own thoughts, so loud in the stillness that engulfed them. To distract himself he asked, "So, what are the numbers reading?"

"What numbers?" Sirius asked, being pulled out of his own thoughts.

"The numbers on his arm.  What are they?"

"Um, it looks like a seventy-six and a nine.  Why? Do you know what they mean?"

Dumbledore sighed.  "It's a measuring tool.  The numbers between one and one-hundred are a measure of how much pain he's in, one-hundred being unbearably painful, one being perfectly fine.  It spiked one-hundred when the seizure started.  It would probably be higher now except that they keep giving him that potion that makes him feel better."

"You were here when it happened?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm afraid so, yes," the old man replied.  "He was telling me about some strange vision that he had.  Shortly after he finished it just swallowed him up.  He was helpless after that.  I'm sure he would have waited for you to arrive as well, but he seemed so apprehensive about it all that it just spilled right out of him."

Sirius nodded.  "What did he tell you?"

"Voldemort is planning an attack against Hogwarts."

"But he's made dozens of these threats.  Even back when I was a student the threats were present."

"That's true," he began, "but now it appears we have another problem."

"What do you mean?  How?"

"Harry says that he saw another man speaking with Voldermort who seemed to hold power over him.  This figure… Harry was much more" he searched for the word, "more… _forceful about the danger that lies ahead and more urgent that this man can do anything.  From Harry's description, it sounds like this man has enough power and skills as a spy then all of the ministry combined.  But he's only one man, not a group that we know of.  I'm not really sure what to make of this."_

Sirius didn't know what to say.  Instead, he contemplated how truthful this vision could have been considering everything that had happened to him in the last week.  It was possible that it was just a nightmare, wasn't it?

"Do you think it's true Albus?" he asked after a moment.

"I don't know, but I'm not taking any chances.  That map of yours is going to be put to use for the forces of good for awhile.  We're going to use it to make sure all of those hidden passageways are blocked.  Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all."  After a pause he added, "I can't seem to decide what I think of that map."

"Why do you say that?" Dumbledore asked.

"All it ever did was get us into trouble and create dangerous situations.  We could have seriously hurt somebody on one of our midnight raids."

"Yes, you could have," he answered honestly, "but think of it now.  If Riddle really can get in through the secret passageways then your exploits can be redeemed.  If we can stop him with the help of that map, then the danger will be worth the outcome."

Sirius carefully smiled.  Dumbledore always knew the right thing to say.  "You really are the wisest wizard on this planet, you know that?" he said.

"That's why they put me on the chocolate frog cards."

Laughing quietly, he directed his gaze back to his godson once more.

"What's the other one?" he asked.

"Pardon?"

"The other dial.  On his arm.  What is it?" 

Dumbledore sighed.  "The other is how much discomfort he's feeling, ten being the worst and one being no discomfort.  You said it's a nine?" he asked.  Sirius nodded, holding his hand a bit tighter, and then wondered if he should be doing it at all. The last thing he wanted was to make him feel any worse. He let go of his hand, watching the dials but nothing changed.  He took his hand again and still they stayed the same.  He sighed.  "Poor Harry."

"Yeah," Sirius repeated.  "Poor Harry."

Just then, Dr. Jules and Eleanor walked in, the former looking very professional, the latter looking a bit solemn and nervous.

"What?" Sirius asked quickly, not missing the aura that came in with them.  "What is it?"  

Closing the door, Eleanor took a chair by Dumbledore and Dr. Jules sat on a chair opposite Sirius beside Harry. 

"It was a stroke, Sirius," Eleanor told him slowly, afraid saying anything quickly would pass right by.

"A- a- stroke?" he stuttered.  "I thought that-"

"That only old people have strokes?" Dr. Jules cut in.  "No, that's a common misconception.  Some strokes can happen because of a ruptured vein in the brain or simply because of blood clotting within the veins.  What happens with a stroke," he continued, taking out his wand and animating his descriptions in the air as he went, "is that one of those blood clots travels through your blood stream and when it gets to your brain it gets stuck, cutting off the blood supply to whatever portion of the brain it is around.  Since the brain isn't getting any blood, and thus oxygen, it starts dying, at least a part of it.  Depending on the area, the victim can suffer paralysis, loss of senses, even death."  Sirius squeezed Harry's hand a little tighter, taken aback by the straightforward report of his godson's affliction.  

"What do you think caused this one?"

"Well, we know for sure that it was an embolic stroke which is a blood clot stroke.  It may have been caused by a combination of things.  Harry certainly had a head injury which doesn't help the situation, but with all of the scabs on his back and his neck, I wouldn't be surprised if the clotting there contributed.  It would make sense," he said.  His next words were said carefully and seriously.  "But then we also found magical traces in his blood, which means that somebody could have caused this.  It might not be natural at all."

"What?" Sirius asked.  "How?  Who?  Is there a way to tell?"

"Not yet, no," Dr. Jules replied.  "The only thing that we do know is that the person that caused it had to have come into contact with him recently.  Unfortunately, with this spell, "recently" means within the last few days.  It could have been anybody."

"Well, how long does it take for the spell to take effect?  Couldn't we at least narrow it down that way?" he countered with strong determination.

"Unfortunately no.  Putting the spell into action can be any time within a week.  It can be triggered from any distance.  Making contact is only to establish who the spell will affect."

Sirius sat silently, searching for ideas but coming up with nothing.

"We've done some tests on him and it looks like he should pull through perfectly fine.  It may take a while of physical rehabilitation, but there wasn't much damage done since it was caught so early.  We've given him some anti-clotting medication which is good for him.  However, he may appear out of it for awhile," Eleanor added.

"How long is 'awhile?'" Dumbledore asked.

"We don't know," and sighs rolled around the room.

"For some people," Dr. Jules continued, "speech and movement can come back immediately; some people never recover.  But you have to know, some people can have a stroke and not even know about it because it is so minor.  Every stroke is different, and I must point out, not all strokes come with seizures.  That just sort of happened to be a by-product of Harry's."

"Is there anything that we can do about it?  Anything at all?" Sirius asked.

"We can try to heal some of the matter that was damaged when it happened, but even wizards don't know that much about the brain and how it functions.  For the most part, I'm afraid we will just have to let it run its course," he said, Eleanor oddly silent.

He sunk in his chair.  '_How could this be happening?  He's only sixteen years old.  This isn't supposed to happen to kids like him.  He doesn't deserve it.'_

Everyone could read the look on Sirius' face from a mile away.  Nobody knew what to say.  After awhile Dr. Jules spoke up again.

"Sirius, why don't you stay here in case he wakes up and is alert?  It would be good for him to see a familiar face when he comes to instead of a complete stranger."  It was probably a mistake to even suggest it.  Harry might not pull out of it.  Ever.  Phrasing it like that made it seem like he would wake up in the morning just like any other day.

Sirius only nodded, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand that held Harry's.  

"Are you going to be okay?  Do you want us to call someone for you?"

"Oh, no!" he cried, sitting up, "I was supposed to call Remus if anything happened!  He's going to be so upset with me."

"Don't worry about it," Dumbledore said immediately, "I need to go back to the school anyway.  I'll let him know as soon as I arrive.  I'm sure he'll understand." 

"No, I need to talk to him.  I promised.  I can't go back on that now.  Albus, will you stay here with him for a moment?  I shouldn't take very long," he said.

"Of course."

"Thank you. You do have a fire that I can use, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Eleanor replied, "come with me," and she headed towards the door.

"I'll be right back," he said, giving Harry's hand a tight squeeze, and following the nurse to the hallway.

As Sirius walked out the door, Dumbledore assumed his place at the youngest's bedside, inspecting his face for any trace of emotion.

"You said you think he'll make a full recovery?"

"Yes, but how long it will take is another matter.  If he's willing and if he wants to fight it, it will come quicker, but if his morale is low, it could take the rest of his life.  We try to encourage them as much as possible to get better.  Many feel like they have nothing to live for anymore," he explained.

"He'll make it," Dumbledore said passively. "I know he will."

~*~

_A/N:  All information on strokes and seizures has come from _iMcKesson Clinical Reference Products: Senior Health Advisor 5.0. Copyright © 1995-2000 iMcKesson LLC.  (Sorry, the web address won't load.)  _If you would like more information on these topics or other medical maladies, I suggest this website for a good overview._

*As always, I have been in haste to get this chapter up and out in the little time that I scrape together so if something is horribly wrong with it, especially in a logical sense, please let me know so that I can fix it.

Also, I'm going to go back in a few days and replace this chapter into the Chapter 5 slot in place of the author's note… just so you know!

**_Review reviews: _**(I maintain this is the best part of writing!)

_Angeltears3: _Thank you!  Sorry you don't care for the crying, but don't worry, although I am notorious for Harry abuse, things will start looking up in the future!  And thanks for trying to help with the "write on the weekends" idea… sadly, even my weekends are over-consumed with homework!

_NightSpear__: Haha!  Thank you for liking my Voldemort and stranger sequence… I'm so tricky! *lol* I'm hoping to bring in the whole motley crew sooner or later.  I'll have to see where the muse takes me.  And thank you so much for telling me how to spell "captor." For real!  I have been looking at that going, "why doesn't that LOOK right?!" and now I know! *lol* ~sigh~ It takes talent to be this dumb sometimes! How's **_Phoenix_ coming? Laters!**_

_Usagichan__:  Thanks for liking it!  And sorry I've been MIA lately… Our Town/subUrbia has been torture!  And where is ****__The One?  Been too busy lately?  Hope to see more soon! See ya later!_

_o__ Hell o Kitty o:_ Hello! I'm so glad you like my detail! Sometimes I'm worried there isn't enough!  And thanks for liking my story! Sorry it took so long! Hope to see you again in the future!

_Tayce__:  Hurray! More story!  I love your review! It cracks me up!  But yep, someone's holding the leash on Voldie… dun, dun, DUN!  Hope this has satisfied the thirst for now… Hopefully there will be more soon!_

_ParanoiaIn2005:_  I'm sooo sorry that this chapter didn't get up as fast as chapter 4.  But thanks for reading!  

_Princess Sabre: _ Hello!  I noticed that I'm on your favorites list, but I've never gotten a review from you… but that's okay!  As long as you like it! And thank you!  You don't know how good that feels!

_All you other cool cats out in fandom:  _Thanks for stoppin' by and havin' a read!  As always, I try to update but quickly, but well, as you can see, time is very limited in the world of Tini.  Hope to see you soon!  And may all of your days be bright!

~Tini :D


	6. Beyond the Unbelievable

**_December 27, 2003_**

**_Disclaimer:_** I, _TiniTinuviel_, am in no way associated with Ms. J.K Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Bros. Harry Potter and all of its characters, etc. belong, in turn, to all of the aforementioned parties and their subsidiaries. I claim nothing save for the particular plot of this piece of fan fiction and selected characters.

**_*Authors Note:_**  Oh my God you guys, I'm so sorry I took so long!  But school is out for the break so here's to hoping that fiction writing will find its due time!  First off, thanks for sticking with me and if you're new, whoo hoo!  I feel that I've taken too long to update, so we'll leave this note where it's at.  Enjoy the chapter and I'm sorry for the wait! Review reviews are at the bottom and without any further ado, I give you Chapter Six of _Tell it to My Face!_

_~*~_

_'They'll know in a few hours,_' Remus told himself.  _'There's no escaping it… They'll be devastated.'  _

He'd been sitting in his office for the past fifteen minutes running the conversation over in his mind. 

_"Harry's in trouble, Remus." _

Those four small words… No four words had struck him so dearly since he'd heard, "Sirius betrayed the Potters."  Of course those were proven false over time but somehow he doubted that these would change.

_"You're going to have to elaborate on that for me."_ He had replied._  "What do you mean he's 'in trouble'?"_

He seemed to have to wait an eternity before Sirius had enough strength to answer his question. 

"_He had a stroke."_

It struck like lightning on a cloudless day.  An embolic stroke at age sixteen.  Magic most likely involved.  By who was the real question.

_"Voldemort?"_ he asked; he was the most obvious adversary that wanted Harry in the grave.

_"Or one of his Death Eaters.  Plan 'B' in case that whole woods thing didn't work out, I guess," Sirius sighed.  _He looked like he was going to drop at any minute.

_"Well, is it going to happen again?" _Remus asked.

_"From the way the staff was talking it sounds like it's a one time deal.  But that doesn't mean that more than one person can't curse him with it at the same time and just not trigger it.    What if they have five or six Death Eaters on this in case it doesn't work the first time?  Voldemort has been cocky in the past, sure, but he's starting to wizen up.  A lot of people could have come into contact with him in a week.  What are we going to do?" _

Indeed.  However Remus was forced to tell him that there really wasn't anything they could do and should he really want to pursue this thought, he would have to do it on his own, at least for the rest of the day.  The students would be up and about in less than an hour and there were rumors milling about Harry's absence, most were untrue but all of them spoke of the Death Eaters.  He had to speak with Professor Dumbledore on the matter and try to think of a way to tell Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.  It wouldn't be easy and the last thing he wanted was to scare them.

"Professor?" a voice asked from the doorway, breaking his almost solid train of thought.  A wizened old man in long violet robes had his head peeked through the crack in the door.

"Headmaster!  I didn't even hear you.  Come in!" Remus exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore started as he began to walk across the office.  "It seems old age has led me to tread quietly through the castle.  I didn't mean to startle you; that was far from my intent."  By now he was immediately across the desk from the younger wizard and delicately sat in one of the armchairs before him.  He quietly studied Remus for a moment who faltered under his gaze, who instead turned his eyes to the rich, cherry wood of his desk.  "From your appearance and behavior it seems as if Sirius has told you everything."  A sigh and a nod were his reply.  "How are you taking this?"

"Not well, actually…" he trailed, allowing another sigh to escape.  He knew the old man was already aware of this, but it was just how Dumbledore did things.  He liked people to say what they felt.  It helped to ease their mind.  Remus paused and put his elbows on his desk, next speaking through his fingers with a wavering voice.  "What are we going to tell them, Albus?  We can't lie to them like the rest of the school." Exasperatedly, he added, "Even then, the school will learn the truth somehow, whether we let it out or not."

"Professor Lupin, just remain calm," Dumbledore said, daring to bring Remus' hands back to the desk which was followed by his eyes.  "We will tell the Weasleys and Ms. Granger the truth, and anybody else that we deem worthy.  The rest of the school will be told a fabrication of the truth as usual.  Harry is ill, and has fallen worse.  That will suffice as far as they are concerned.  Have you informed Professor McGonagall yet?" When he didn't answer, he tried again.  "Professor?  Remus?"

"No," he let out, barely louder than a whisper, "not yet.  I suppose I should go find her."

"Are you up for teaching today?" Dumbledore asked him suddenly, seeing the pale and fragile look on his face.  

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice coarse, his mind elsewhere.  "I'll be fine."

"Remus-"

"Honestly," he said looking up, "they're just doing book work today anyway.  We'll be fine...  I'll be fine," he finished, as if to convince himself that the words were true.

"I am not convinced," the old man replied, watching him take in a shaky breath, "but if you are certain then I will let you teach.  I will inform Professor McGonagall of what has happened.  She'll come down and speak with you before breakfast and you can work out your plan of action from there.  I recommend that you tell them as soon as possible; putting it off will only hurt all of you."

"Albus, we'll take care of it."

"Alright," he said, "and don't forget to take care of _yourself_.  There is a full moon coming soon, in case you've forgotten." A moment, and then he added, "Minerva will be in shortly."

"Thank you," was all that he could muster in reply.

Professor Dumbledore stood up to leave and headed for the office door but before he reached the handle he turned and walked back to the quiet, crestfallen man in the desk chair and said, "Why don't you go and rest for a few minutes?  Take a short nap?  Minerva is more than capable of waking you when she arrives and I need time to explain to her all that has happened in the last few hours."

"If you insist," Remus blankly complied.

"I do," he said, and reached out to shake hands, pulling Remus to a stand before he left.  

"I'll just sleep in here, actually.  The couch is more than comfortable for thirty minutes time."

Dumbledore nodded and left without another word, closing the door behind him.  With a pounding head Remus walked over to the lone couch, sitting down roughly before heaving a great sigh and lying down to sleep for the first time in over 36 hours.

He had barely closed his eyes, however, before he felt spindly old fingers shaking him back into wakefulness.

"Wake up, Professor Lupin, breakfast starts in fifteen minutes," Professor McGonagall said from above him.

"Professor," he started, looking through sleep-blurred eyes, "how did you get here so quickly?  Albus just left to find you-"

"He left to find me over an hour ago," she said pulling up a chair beside him.  "You've been sleeping near two hours now actually.  I'm sorry to be so straight forward on this Remus but we really must decide what to tell Mr. Potter's friends and when.  I suggested to Albus that the Houses be informed separately instead of over breakfast this morning to cut down on some of the incessant gossip that always follows such news.  He agreed.  The Gryffindors seem to be taking it fairly well-"

"You told them all of it?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she said, "only that he would be gone for a few more days.  His 'flu' it seems has gotten worse with the cold and his relatives 'weren't keen on letting him come back to school in such a state.'"  Remus looked at her skeptically.  "I know what you are thinking and no, the Weasleys and Ms. Granger didn't buy it for a second.  They tried to corner me as I left but I told them I would speak to them later.  They didn't seem too pleased, but at least happier at the thought that they would learn the truth."

Remus sighed as he sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes, wondering why they felt as if they had been staring into the sun since the dawn of time.  His headache reflected the same feeling.

"Here, I've brought you some orange juice," she said, pulling a clear glass off the table behind her to hand to him.

"Coffee would have been better," he murmured.

"Hardly," she retorted sarcastically, not missing his small complaint.  "While it would wake you up it would do nothing for your health.  This will do both.  Now, for the topic at hand…" she trailed, never one to digress for any long amount of time.

"What day is today?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.  "Wednesday?"

"Yes," she replied after a flick of her eyes to a calendar on the wall.

"I have them in class this afternoon but not Ginny."

"I have Ms. Weasley this afternoon in Transfiguration.  My class ends at 3:30."

"As does mine.  How about I hold Ron and Hermione after class and we'll meet in your classroom by 3:45?" he suggested.  Meticulously she looked him over.

"How about Ms. Weasley and I meet you three?  It may not be far, but I don't think you're in any condition to be meandering the hallways when you don't need to," she pointed out.  "I know you and Sirius think you're invincible, Mr. Lupin, but you are far from it.  No," she repeated without time for his reply, "we will come to you."

"But what do you think we should tell them?"

"Everything."

"Everything? Are you sure?  Because they are not afraid to ask the hard questions."  It seemed much too rash to tell them everything, no questions asked.

"Yes, Mr. Lupin, I am fully aware of that.  I have had them in class three more years than you have," she retorted.  

"What I mean is, is there anything we should let Harry tell them?  And what do we say when they want to know how he was taken?  Even we don't know all the details on that yet." 

"At the risk of sounding like an ominous old woman, I don't think we should leave anything for Harry to tell.  Albus thinks they should know everything right now and… and we don't even know if he'll wake up."

It was like a slap in the face and gallons of ice cold water being thrown across him all at once.  He looked up at her with amazed and alarmed eyes.  '_How could she say something like that?'  _

"I'm sorry," she began, "but it is the unfortunate truth.  That's not to say I don't believe he'll come through, but we must keep all possibilities in mind.  That way we won't fall so hard when the undesirable happens."  She paused, her eyelids turning a shade pink as she looked down.  "Now if you'll excuse me," she said as she stood from her place, "I must go."  She turned for the door but stopped when she reached it.  She did not turn around as she pulled the handle open, rather turned only her head, and more to the floor than anything else.  "Don't forget breakfast is starting shortly.  I will be expecting to see you there and Ms. Weasley and I will meet you in your classroom at 3:45 this afternoon," and she snapped the door closed behind her leaving Remus in shock on the couch. 

Distantly he noted his vice-like grip on his glass of juice from the militant old woman when his hearing caught something amiss: a sniffle from across the door, the shaking of a handkerchief, and the blowing of a nose.  He knew what was happening without even seeing it and he refused to see Professor McGonagall cry.  He knew to respect her privacy, but he never realized how much she cared.  Instead he listened, heartbroken, at the door as she took in a steadying breath.  He could practically see her dabbing at her eyes and replacing her spectacles, straightening her robes and adjusting her already perfect hat before marching once again towards the door to the hallway.  Only when he heard that door open and close did he release his breath and sit on the arm of the couch, praying the day would already be over.

~*~

Against his own will, Sirius fell asleep when the morning sun was hours past sunrise.  The nurses all commented to each other on how uncomfortably he slept.  

"He's using his arms as a pillow, I saw," Henrietta, a plump, kindly, old nurse whispered as she passed, heading off to arrange fresh bedding in vacant rooms.

"He won't be using them for long.  I've never seen anybody sleep for more than a few hours sitting in a chair like he is," Kyren said, ticking off information in charts as she sat leisurely in a black, swivel chair.

"But did you see the way he's holding his hand?" Eleanor added timidly, leaning against the desk with her arms crossed.  "He must really love him to sleep holding Harry's hand like that."

"And with his glasses on too, I'll add," Larna said, striding up to the desk from the room across the hall.  "I've just been in to check on them.  His godfather wasn't wearing glasses when he came in, was he?"

"No, I don't recall so," Eleanor said, standing behind the U-shaped station with a look of deepest thought upon her features.

"Well, in any case, I left them on.  Thought if I tried to remove them he'd wake up.  He'll probably wake up soon anyway.  He seemed to be lost in some nightmare, but I didn't wake him as I wasn't sure.  It was pretty borderline."  
"Probably for the best," Eleanor finished.  On a whim she asked, "Have any of you heard what his last name is?  He looks quite familiar but I can't seem to place him."

"No," they replied, "though," Kyren picked up, "I had a very ominous feeling about him when we first spoke, but it was strange.  I felt as if I should be afraid, and everything in my mind was telling me to run but I just couldn't when I looked into his eyes.  Something about those eyes suppresses the 'fight-or-flight' instinct.  I'm not sure if I like that."

"I've felt the same way," Larna added, now leaning on the counter on her crossed arms, "It's so bizarre."

Eleanor only hummed her agreement.  There was something bizarre going on here indeed and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

~*~

As 3:30 struck, Eleanor made her way into Harry's room.  She shivered briefly at the change in temperature from his darkened room as opposed to the hallway and softly clicked on a lamp in the corner.  Without a break from sound Sirius quickly stirred, eyes whipping impossibly fast around the room, finally resting on the light-blue clad woman before him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered nervously.  "I didn't mean to wake you.  I just came to… to check him over and I needed some light."

He only hummed his concurrence before lying his head back down again, looking toward Harry's face and softly closing his eyes again.

"Wouldn't you like a bed?  It must be horribly uncomfortable to sleep like that."

"No," he said, his voice no louder than a hoarse whisper, "I really want to stay here.  Besides," he said, checking his watch, "Remus said he would be here in about an hour.  I need to be where he'll know to find me."

"That doesn't mean that you can't sleep someplace else and we can wake you up when he gets here."

"I'm fine staying here, thanks," and there was no mistaking the finality in his voice.

She fell silent, knowing she would probably never win the battle and went about her inspection.  Stealing a glance at the man before her, she saw his bloodshot eyes that drizzled down into large, uncomely bags.  He was rubbing his neck as so many hospital visitors do when they fall asleep where they sit, and his black hair flailed messily, shooting out crazily like sprigs from a dried bush.  On any other occasion it would have made her giggle, but now she suppressed her laughter and silently cursed herself as her shoes clicked on the floor and reverberated around the room.  She prayed that he wouldn't pay attention to the noise, but even though he feigned deafness, the sound shook him and hurt his eardrums.  They may as well have been stilettos actually being driven into his ear canal instead of soft flats that merely seemed to press upon the mind.  He couldn't wait for her to leave.  Unfortunately, his wish required a payment, a payment that froze him to his seat when cautiously she asked him, "Sirius, what's your last name?"

When she saw him visibly tense up at the question, she tried to cover herself, quickly adding, "Because you look like a boy that I went to school with.  You didn't attend the Rottbrenhurst Academic Estrella of Convalescence did you?"

Stiffly, and against all of his judgment, he very slightly picked up his head and jerkily shook it 'no'.

"Oh," she managed, trying to keep her responses as light as possible.  "So I take it Rainhampton's is out as well then?"

Again, he nodded, this time raising his head to look at those dark brown eyes, to study them.  With some hesitation and an adrenaline surge of power behind his muscles should he need them, he asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she passed off, "the girls and I just thought you looked familiar and those were the only two places that we all attended together.  I guess you just have one of those fa-" She stopped.

"One of those what?" he asked, frightened and dangerous.

"Just one of those faces…" She held Sirius' gaze for a very long time.  Larna called for her twice before she dared to move.  It took longer for him to remove his transfixed pupils from her alarmed features, but when he did, the tension in the room seemed to lesson from being like a claustrophobic with their head stuck in a jack-o-lantern, to merely new and twitchy company.  

Fearing the worst, but knowing that he could never escape the inevitable, he heavily asked, "Have you remembered?  Do you know who I am?"  His eyes were cast low, straight through the floor, but his voice still seemed dangerous.

"No," she shook her head, breathless.  "No… I thought for a moment… but, no… that would be impossible… It couldn't happen."  Pulling herself out of her own thoughts, she turned to him once more, forcing a smile and hastily wished him a good day before walking briskly out of the room. Sirius caught her putting a hand to her chest in anxiety as she crossed the threshold and stopped abruptly at the nurses' station, frozen in time, Larna leaning over the desk, most likely asking her what had taken so long.  

Sirius, on the other hand, felt lost in the darkness.  Not just his life was on the line, but his soul.  '_When is Remus going to get here?' he erratically thought, pulling his eyes away from the scene.  _'I've really gotten myself into trouble this time, and there's definitely no escaping it without some help.'__

~*~

That's it kids!  Yep, Sirius has really landed himself in the shitter this time! (Sorry, I had to say it!)  Again, I'm reeeeeeeeeeeally sorry that it took me so long and that this chapter isn't really long enough to make up for that, but hey, I'm trying!  Now on to the good stuff!

**_Review Reviews!:_**

_Tayce_:  Omg! I have to say that the email you sent me right after I posted… the little face… it just cracks me up!! I opened it and just started laughing so hard!  I'm seriously thinking of making into desktop wallpaper! It's CLASSIC! It makes me smile just thinking about it! *lol* And thank you sooooo much for reviewing… next time if your computer is being stooopid, just drop me a line! But that means so much to me! You rock!  As for Ron and 'Mione catching up with the Boy-Wonder, that is coming soon as this chapter leads to it! Thanks for reading! And don't sweat the tired part… I think we all are!

_NightSpear:_  Yeah, I'm evil… *gives Voo-doo fingers and shifty eyes*… but that's coming to an end for now.  As for Dumbledore, he always was powerful, I'm just reveling it in J.K.'s world.  And the stroke… ah, the stroke… you'll just have to see! :D  Why are you getting discouraged with **_Phoenix_?  It seems fine me…  Muse being an ass-clown, if I may use the term?  If you need anything, just drop me a line! Don't know if I can help, but I'm here for ya!  And thanks for the nitpicks!**

_ParanoiaIn2005_:  Thank you!  Yeah, I had to go depressing for a bit, but things are going to look up for awhile!  I am way mondo flattered that you think I can make anything work!  *lol*  I don't write anything but ff's right now except some really horrible poetry about art which probably won't be shared anytime soon! (Read: ever *lol*) But thanks! I'ma try and grab some time to read some of your stuff too! It sounds really good!

_Mel49_:  Glad to be back! Thanks!

_Angeltears3_: Thanks for liking it! Sorry for the wait!

_JT14_:  I am soooo flattered that you reviewed my story and it absolutely cracks me up every time I read "tasty little morsel."  My God, it just... it's so cool and it makes me feel good, and it's different!  So thank you for that!! Thank you for thinking my fic is an ass-kicker and hopefully I'll be able to get more out over break!

~Tini :D


	7. They Know

**_January 8, 2004_**__****

**_Disclaimer_**: I, _TiniTinuviel_, am in no way associated with Ms. J.K Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Bros. Harry Potter and all of its characters, etc. belong, in turn, to all of the aforementioned parties and their subsidiaries. I claim nothing save for the particular plot of this piece of fan fiction and selected characters.

**_Authors Note:_**  Hey all!  Not bad getting two chapters out almost within a week, huh?  Ah, the wonders a vacation can do for a fic-writer!  In any case, I did update chapter six with a real chapter instead of that authors note, so if you haven't read that yet, then SURPRISE! You get TWO chapters!  Hurray!  But without any further ado, I give you Chapter 7 of the one and only, "Tell it to My Face."

~*~

The afternoon was not what Remus had expected it to be.  _Well, on second thought, he told himself, _it's **exactly what I thought it would be, only worse**_.  _

2:30 p.m. brought Ron and Hermione into his classroom where they sat fidgeting and glaring at him for the entire hour.  More than once, Hermione raised her hand to ask clever questions about Harry disguised under fake confusion of the text.  And more than once, Remus was forced to think of something just as clever that reflected accuracy on both the topic of her lost friend and whatever hapless creatures she had chosen as her front.  When her hand rose for the sixth time he finally acted on his Snape-like instinct and told to her lower her hand before it was even any substantial distance from her desk.  The look of shock on her face was quickly replaced by a pained expression which Remus noted as being the handy-work of one Ron Weasley, apparently finally gaining his turn to kick _her under the table and whisper "I told you so," while their professor was not looking.  _

At five minutes to the bell, he stood to announce the homework assignment while the class packed their books, parchments and quills in their bags and added with as much crispness as he could, "Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, a word after the bell, please," eliciting the most obvious response possible from the Slytherin infused group.

Amongst the usual giggles and taunts, a murmur of "About time that broad's annoyance gets what it deserves," could be heard.

"Mr. Malfoy," Remus caught with the greatest of ease, "detention tonight with Mr. Filch tonight seems splendid, wouldn't you agree?  He's certainly been looking for somebody to help scrape the fleetboot poison off of the giant squid for some time.  By the looks of your desk, it appears you would be perfect for the job."  For by this time, Remus had approached the Slytherin's desk and it was indeed covered in thick scratches, mostly in a blotchy, sporadic nature, but Remus could easily see the form of a werewolf taking shape in the mess and knew what it would become within the next week or so.  A public sign of his curse for all to see, and to begin the mockery.

"I'm sorry professor but I haven't a clue what you are talking about," the cool blonde issued with as much ease as any debonair member of the English high society.  The flick of his eye to Millicent Bolstrode made Remus silently cast a protective shield over the mess and her quiet, attempted fix of the situation dissipated as if she had never said a word.

"Well I'm afraid that's a shame.  Perhaps two hours using a toothpick to reach into all of her tiny little crevices will jog your memory," he said, "and if not, at least you'll be easing the squid of a great discomfort.  The poison is flesh-eating as I'm sure you are aware.  You will be doing her quite the favor," and before another word was exchanged, he announced "Class dismissed!" with a quick, "7:30, Mr. Malfoy, in Filch's office!" before the entire classroom spewed its contents into the hallway beyond the door.  The entire contents, that is, with the exception of two very apprehensive and knowledge thirsty teenagers.

With no one else to turn to, Remus motioned for them both to sit down as he strolled back to his desk, just to turn around and come back, sitting atop a desk only two rows before them. 

"This is about Harry, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Hermione, and next time you're worried, please just wait until after class.  You're much too clever for me to compete with when I haven't had any sleep," he said lightly, so she would know he was being serious, but not angry.  "Professor McGonagall is bringing your sister here; we wanted to talk to you all at once without the rest of the house.  I'm sure you understand."  They both nodded.  

"So, how is he, Professor?  Honestly?"  Ron asked, bracing for the sting that was sure to come.

"I'd rather wait for your sister," Remus said in a low voice that did not comfort either of them at all.  "How's Quidditch going?" he said, changing topics.  "I missed the last game because, you know, I was 'sick'."

Ron nodded.  "Well, I suppose.  We're probably not going to win the cup this year though.  I'm still rubbish and with all new chasers… Harry and the Snitch is all we really have going for us," he finished with a tinge of saddened apprehension.

Remus merely hummed in response.  "And how about you, Hermione?  How's your school work?"

"Good," she replied, "Loads of work, but I enjoy it for the most part."

"For the most part?"

"Well, despite popular belief, I'm getting quite bored with doing school work all the time.  I really wish I had more time for myself to read outside by the lake or something."

He nodded in understanding, after all, wasn't that the first thing he had done when exams were over?  

"I just wish Harry were here," she said, "I miss him sitting across from me in the Great Hall, and standing next to me in Potions.  I didn't think anything of it when Professor Dumbledore said he was sick, but when you came and said it was something worse… I didn't know what to think…" It was full of sadness and fear; it shook them all very badly, hearing what they were feeling but too afraid to say.  A sudden, reverberating clang made them all jump and spin in their seats, only to calm upon seeing Ginny Weasley and Professor McGonagall swing the door open and shut in one fluid swoop.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Remus said politely.  

"Good afternoon to you too," she replied.  "I believe we're a few minutes early but I didn't think you'd mind."

"Not at all.  Please, have a seat," he said moving to sit on a regular chair, McGonagall beside him, while Ginny took her place next to Ron.

"How do you do, Ginny?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, almost steadily, but was the first to officially get down to business.  "How's he doing?"

Remus and McGonagall looked at each other for a brief moment before she turned to them and started with, "I'm sure you three know that Mr. Potter is not really ill, am I correct?"  Their nods were her response.  "He is not doing very well at all at the moment."  And together with brief interjections from Remus, she told them everything that was known to Albus and The Order, from what they knew of his disappearance right up until Remus and Sirius' first departure from St. Mungo's that very morning.  Everything except his stroke.

"But Professor," Hermione said, "you just said that he was awake and getting better when before you said he's not doing well at all.  I hope this doesn't sound too rude, but what aren't you telling us?"

Both elders sighed at her observance.  Their agreement to tell the truth always had been shaky on this part of the tale but here Remus took over, telling them all very slowly what Sirius had told him.  It had given him such a shock and he was only receiving this half of the story at the time.  When he was done with what he knew, he looked into all three of their faces.  Hermione looked tired, rubbing her eyes as if she'd been awake for two days like their Professor.  Ron seemed to be in a light state of shock, his hands folded on his desk, staring straight into them, dumb to the world. Ginny just sat quietly, hugging her knees to her chest, every now and then brushing her cheek across them, whether from tears or perhaps a nervous twitch, neither professor was sure.  He knew something like this was going to happen.

"We know this is a lot for you to take in at once-" Remus began.

"-but we and the Headmaster thought it would be best if you learned the truth right away," McGonagall finished.  "Do you have any questions for us before we let you go?"

"When is he coming back?" a small voice asked.

"We're not sure yet, Ms. Weasley.  As soon as some of the tests have come back, which some of them may have already, we'll know more," McGonagall said gently.

"Is Sirius still with him?"  Ron asked.

"He should be, yes," Remus replied.  "I'm supposed to be meeting with him in about twenty minutes at the hospital.  We have a lot to discuss, concerning many matters.  We may have to see if one of your brothers wouldn't mind staying with Harry for a time.  I would like to see Sirius go home and rest if he can.  Do you think they'd mind?"

"No, Fred and George will do it in an instant, Bill and Charlie would be close behind if they didn't have so much work right now," Ron answered.

Remus nodded.   "If there's nothing more that we can tell you, then perhaps our meeting is over.  If you do have any questions that you think of later, you are more than welcome to come and ask us, however for Harry's sake, please speak with us privately.  No hallways, not on the grounds, agreed?"

"Yeah."  
"Sure."  
"Of course."

"Very well," McGonagall said, standing.  "Now why don't you three head back to the common room?  You look very tired."

"Professors, wait," Hermione said.  "Professor Lupin, will you come and tell us what Sirius says when you get back?  If there's more, I'd like to know."

Remus stole a glance at Professor McGonagall again and they seemed to come to a silent agreement.  "I'll do what I can.  Now go on, go outside or get some rest.  Just please remember that to the rest of the school he's with his aunt and uncle and he's very ill.  Please don't let anything slip," he begged them and they nodded at him, making sure they all made eye contact.  

At that they all stood, McGonagall leading the way to the door and Remus following the group.  "Have a nice afternoon," he said to them as naturally as possible, and he closed the door on all of them with a resounding clang.

~*~

With a feeling of a great weight upon her, Hermione turned to the others in the hallway, noticing that they looked much the same.  

"Do you think there's anything we can do?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Ginny said.

"Not this time," Ron added.  "It looks like he really is on his own, now." He laughed a bit bitterly.  "He always wanted to leave us behind.  Never wanted us to get hurt.  And now that he's alone it looks like he needs us more than ever," and he let out a great breath.

"Let's get back to the common room," Hermione said.  "Play some chess or something?" and Ginny nodded, leading the way back to Gryffindor Tower.

~*~

4:30 p.m. brought Remus Lupin in from the dark and the cold, only to be greeted by two hushed, anxious, and short words.  

"She knows," Sirius said.

"What do mean 'she knows'?" Remus asked as he moved to sit in a chair beside Harry, tossing his scarf onto an empty seat.  "Who knows what?  Do they know what's wrong with Harry?  Exactly?" he asked quickly.  Sirius shook his head no, frantically pacing back and forth.  With confusion, Remus noted that he kept glancing at the blinds to the hallway that were shut.  Little did he know that Sirius had shut them long ago so as to not attract unwanted attention which he already seemed to be getting.

"Eleanor knows who I am!  There's no chance of my getting out of here anymore!  There will be Ministry members flying in from all angles to make sure that I don't escape again!  I'm totally screwed!" he whispered hysterically.  The last hour of waiting by himself had led to many, many thoughts on his short conversation with the lead nurse and none of them ended in a pleasant fashion, many ended in pain.  He continued his restless pacing, back and forth, and back and forth, always glancing at the window to the hallway to make sure that it was closed all the way.

Remus, while watching his best friend erratically stride across the room had his mind going a mile a minute; this was far from what he expected to be greeted with as his welcome back to the hospital.  "Maybe not," he said, looking to the floor.  "If she really knew who you were than the Ministry probably would have already come to get you.  Or at least Kingsley would have sent you a message of some kind telling you how to escape."

"But what if she's just waiting it out until I'm asleep or something?  Catch me when I'm not paying attention?"

"I doubt it," he started, "but I can't say it isn't a possibility."  Sirius let out an exasperated sigh that clearly stated that was not the response he was looking for.  "When did you talk to her about this?"

"About an hour ago."

"Plenty of time to show that she doesn't know who you really are."

"Plenty of time to plan an arrest, you mean!"

"Sirius!  Stop!  Look, maybe you were like, long lost playmates from childhood or something and all she has is a family photo with you in it.  Maybe she went to Hogwarts with us… maybe you dated her sister or something, I don't know!  But just because she vaguely recognizes you does not mean that she knows who you "are" and that she's going to turn you in!"

"Earth to Remus, look at who you are talking to here!  I'm practically Britain's Most Wanted Man and not for their nudey annual calendar!  If she honestly hasn't recognized me from _The Prophet_ or the television then she's had to have been living in a hole for the past twenty years!  A very DEEP hole," he said, gesturing wildly.

"Well then my money is on the hole theory because anybody that doesn't know the real you would have already called you in.  Was she afraid of you when she approached you about this?"

"Not at first… She played innocent first, and then seemed as if she knew something but was trying to get me to admit to it myself.  But right after that she figured it out for sure."

"How do you know?"

"Well when someone goes from nice and amiable to a statue and can't spit out more than bits of a sentence at a time, generally that's when I figure they know," he spat harshly.

"Hey, calm down," Remus snapped back.  "Did she say anything about it?  Did she say your name or anything?"

"Are you listening?  She didn't HAVE to, she KNOWS! I'm totally screwed!"

"Are YOU listening?" Remus countered.  "If she was really as afraid of you as you describe her to be then the Ministry would have been here long ago and you would have left with them.  My advice to you is to _calm down_.  I know that isn't what you want to hear," he said louder, knowing that Sirius would cut him off at any second, "but I think it is the best course of action.  If you appear not-guilty to them, then they will at least doubt themselves if they really do suspect you, and if they do, maybe staying calm and being polite will lighten them up enough to at least give the "non-murderer" side of you a sympathetic thought.  Hey," he added as an afterthought, pointing to himself, "they're tolerant to werewolves; maybe they're tolerant to not-really-ex-cons too.   Just cool the boiler down, okay?  I'll talk to Albus about this, everything will work out fine."

"I hope so," Sirius said, stopping his pacing and heaving a sigh.  He shook his head.  "I never should have come here.  You should have apparated with him.  You know him better-"

"But he loves you more, no questions about it," Remus said truthfully, "now sit down, you're freaking me out."  Sirius couldn't help but crack a smile, which Remus guiltily gave back.  "Now, what's been happening?  I want to know everything so I can spread the word along to Ron and Ginny and Hermione."

"I thought you were going to tell them like an hour ago."

"We did, but Hermione asked if I would tell them whatever you tell me here.  I'm planning on meeting with them this evening after dinner."

"Sounds good," Sirius said. "Nothing has happened to be quite honest, though.  He's been asleep the whole time," he finished, just as there was a knock on the hospital room door.  He looked hesitantly at Remus before calling out, "Come in."

It was Dr. Jules.  "Good afternoon, Sirius," he said lightly, with no trace of fear or recognition whatsoever.  "Oh, Mr. Lupin, I wasn't aware that you had arrived.  Welcome back.  I just came by to let you know that some of Harry's test results have come in."  While Sirius and Remus sat in chairs at the table, Dr. Jules alternated between leaning on Harry's foot board and standing before them throughout his talk.  "You will be happy to now that when he wakes up, and it will be _when, he has every chance of making a full recovery.  We've ran some more tests on his blood and only found the one magical signature, nothing more will happen to him that we are aware of.  His other injuries seem to be healing well, though they do need more time."_

"What about the one on his neck?" Sirius asked, "You said you were worried about that one once."

"It's doing well.  For a short time we were concerned since the laceration was slicing the edge of his vertebrae, but no damage was done to the spinal cord.  He'll be fine.  Basically, we're just waiting for him to wake up."

"Do you have anything to add to how he was captured?" Remus asked.

"I'm afraid not.  That will just be something we'll all have to hear about when he comes to.  Although we can say that there was minimal potion use in the last four days; nothing stronger than sedation, apparently it was used that day, though.  Perhaps it aided in his capture, perhaps not.  Beyond that, broken bones are healing, his brain is working on repairing itself which we are watching very closely, and his overall health looks good.  However…" he paused.

"That doesn't sound good, Doc," Sirius said, "just let us know and get it over with."  Both he and Remus were leaned over their knees now, each clasping their own hands, shifting their fingers.  They looked like twins.

"However, we have just discovered that there is a _possibility_ of finding out whose magic is in Harry's blood."  
"Why do you say, 'However,' then?  That's great," Remus said.

"That's not all, Mr. Lupin.  I'm afraid that the chances of finding out are very slim and the chance only lasts within the week."

"Then what are you waiting for?  Do whatever it takes!  Figure it out!" Sirius cried.

"It's not that simple," Dr. Jules explained, knowing that they would get prematurely excited by the news.  "The chance only exists this week and we need Harry to be _awake_ to help us."  Remus sighed, dropping his chin to chest.  "You see, the maker of this specific curse was learned in Muggle science, specifically human anatomy, as well as the Dark Arts.  He was knowledgeable enough to know that the human blood cells have an average life span of six weeks.  Yes," he said, seeing something of wonder on both the men's faces, "your blood can and does die.  But it also replenishes itself.  Even right now, your body is making new blood cells and sifting out the old and dead blood cells within your kidneys.  These cells are then flushed out of the system; they are of no use to us."

"I'm sorry," Sirius cut in, "but why are you telling us this?"

"The magic in young Mr. Potter's blood isn't just floating around in the plasma; it is in his actual blood _cells.  I am telling you this because, unfortunately for us, the creator of this curse designed it specifically so that the magic would target cells that had only a week left in its life cycle, yet the curse also seemed to be designed with a failsafe of sorts.   It can also be attached to cells that have up to two weeks of life left, and not all of these cells are lost when the curse is triggered, that's how we found the magic in the first place.  This final-week-of-life is the reason why the curse must be triggered within the week, do you see?" _

"But by the same coin, couldn't the spell be set off after the first week was over with?" Remus asked.

"You're very observant, Mr. Lupin, and yes, it can.  However, most of the cells will have died by that time and the effect would not be very strong, hardly noticeable, in fact.  But I'd like to remind you, it can only be set off once, even if there are remnants left so you need not worry about Harry now."

"So how does Harry being awake help us?" Sirius asked.

"Because if Harry wakes up within the week and tells us everything that he knows," he said, looking straight at him, "we may be able to pinpoint and track down who did this to him.  It is an extremely long shot and may lead us nowhere at all, but it is still possible to find the culprit and put him in Azkaban."  Sirius couldn't stop the shiver from running down his spine.  "Isn't that something that you would like to see done, Mr. Black?"

Sirius froze in his seat, eyes wide, pointing to the floor.  He could hear the pounding in his ears, feel his heart within his windpipe, and his mouth went desert dry.  But through the shock a voice kept telling him, screaming at him, '_Say something! **Say something!!**' Jerkily, he shook his head, forcing his heart back to its proper place with a tremendous gulp.  "Yes," he fought out, "yes, I would like to see that."_

"Very well, then," Dr. Jules stated cheerily, "we do have a potion to give him that will quicken his brain healing which hopefully will bring him back to us sooner than usual so that we may begin the process of tracking his attempted-murderer down.  If you gentlemen have no further questions, I will leave you so that I may see to other patients.  However, if you happen to know of anybody specifically that would want to do something like this to Mr. Potter," and again, he looked at Sirius, "we would like you to make a list of them so that if we can question him before time runs out we'll know where to start."

"Of course," Remus said, clearing his throat, "we'll get started on that right away.  Thank you, Dr. Jules," and he stood to shake the man's hand before seeing him to the door. 

"Have a nice day, gentlemen," he said, just before Remus closed the door on him.

"Oh my God…" Sirius moaned.  "They _do_ know!  What am I going to _do?" he said, voice beginning to rise to a panic._

"I don't know," Remus said, sliding down the door to the ground, his eyes closed in thought.  "No, wait, I do know!" he said defiantly, standing up again and beginning to pace.  "I'll go back to Hogwarts and Floo Kingsley to make sure he knows what's going to happen, see if there's any chance that he can derail this before it goes anywhere.  Then I'll go and talk to Albus to try and find a way to get you out of here and back to the school where they won't be able to touch you.  I just hope that I can get all this done in time… I'm sorry I didn't believe you," he said soberly.

"It's alright," Sirius said, lost in shock, "just… just try to hurry, okay?"  He was already starting to despair.

"Don't do this, Sirius," Remus scolded him, "don't give up already.  Just act natural and don't leave this room.  I'll be back soon, don't worry." And in a flash, he was gone.

"I can't do this," Sirius said desperately to himself.  "I can't let them get me when you're not even awake to see me go.  Please don't let them take me when you won't even know."

~*~

Closing note:  That's it for now!  Hope you enjoyed it!  But I do have a question:  I am running this whole, "how was he captured" thing into the ground?  Do you care?  Just curious!

Thanks for dropping in for a read!

~Tini :D


	8. Strange Happenings

* * *

May 18, 2004

Disclaimer: Not mine… wish it was… don't we all?

Authors Note: Good God, as I'm sure you all are thinking to if anybody is left. 4 months… that's no good at all… I'm sorry. Life, along with my other fic "I Know I'm Not Sleeping," got in the way, but summer has finally arrived to the relief of all! whew So, since I haven't updated in ages, I'll give you a short summary of everything that has happened up to now unless you want to go back and reread the whole thing as I'm sure you'd otherwise have to! So here goes:

Sirius and the crew have found Harry on the verge of death by the hands of You-Know-Who in the middle of the forest and battle ensues. Taking up our near dead hero, Sirius takes him to St. Mungo's for some patching up and then Remus and Sirius cry (sniff, sniff). After the man tears have been released, our favorite werewolf heads back to Hogwarts to tell the Weasley's and Hermione what's up (along with, you know, teaching) and Sirius goes back to the hospital only to find that some evil being has put a spell on Harry that makes him have a stroke. On top of all of that, the Ministry may be coming for our loveable non-convict which weighs heavily on his mind as Harry lies comatose in front of him. Oh yeah, and maybe Voldemort isn't the one in power after all! Dun, dun, DUN!

So now that you have been refreshed with my somewhat dry sense of humor, let's get our read on! Presenting for one unknown-amount-of-time only, Chapter 8 of "Tell it to My Face!"

* * *

Looking up at the Head table at supper that night, Hermione, Ron and Ginny all noticed that Professor Dumbledore, Professor Lupin and Professor McGonagall were all conspicuously absent.

"Where do you think they are?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Ron somberly replied, "but McGonagall and Dumbledore are rarely gone at the same time. One of them is always here in case something happens."

"Well they've certainly found someone to take their place," Ginny bitterly added. Glancing up at the long table again, the three saw, with no uncertainties, one Professor Severus Snape glaring at them as if they were next on his hit list. "Why does he keep staring at us? It's giving me the willies," she shivered.

"Just don't pay attention to him," Ron told her, and she leaned forward in her seat, shadowed by her brother's size. "But if Lupin, Dumbledore and McGonagall are gone, then it must be something to do with Harry. Do you think something has happened to him?"

"Ease up, Ron," Dean said to him from three seats over causing the trio to turn a shade red and sink in their chairs a bit, "it's just the flu. I don't see why his aunt and uncle don't just send him here; Madame Pomfrey would have him up and ready to go in no time."

"Er, you're right, Dean, he'll probably be back in a few days. I'm sure he's getting better all the time," Ron tried to recover and quickly he turned away, trying to hide himself in his sister's shadow but to little avail. Whispering this time, he said to both girls, "Are you almost done? I don't want to risk blowing our cover again."

"Yeah," Hermione said, the disappointment in her voice only overpowered by the concurrence of feelings she had for Harry.

Trying to act as neutral as possible, all three rose from their seats, Hermione and Ginny grabbing their book bags, and they began to head for the great oak doors that would separate them from the rest of the student body.

"I'm sorry," Ron murmured to Hermione as they passed the edges of the four titanic tables, just paces from freedom.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered back, finally passing the arch and they continued their path across the castle foyer straight to the tower.

"And just where do you think you three are headed off to?" a dark, silky voice demanded from behind them. Hesitantly they turned, knowing who they were about to face, but wishing it wasn't to be so.

"We were just heading back to the common room, Professor Snape, to do some studying," Hermione said, her voice clear and level.

"I see," he said, surveying them carefully. "You three will follow me to my office. There is something that I must discuss with you. Immediately," he said sharply, turning on his heal and walking swiftly to the corridor of the dungeons. With the utmost confusion and admittedly a little fear, they warily followed the man into the dark recesses of the fortress they called home.

* * *

"We're sure, Albus, I was there. They know who he is and if we don't get him out of there and I mean now, they will come for him."

Methodically, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore paced his office. "But it is admittedly strange that they have not turned him over to the authorities as of yet. Very curious, indeed."

"Albus-" Remus started again in a huff but was quickly cut off by Professor McGonagall.

"Albus, there must be something we can do. Use an invisibility cloak to smuggle him out of the hospital, break down their anti-apparation wards for a few minutes, use a portkey, something. We can not leave him there any longer than we already have. The ministry may already be on their way!"

"No, I don't think so…" he trailed off but before Remus could jump in again, he said, "I think that may be the safest place for him as a matter of fact."

"What?" Remus asked disbelievingly.

As if he hadn't heard a word, Dumbledore moved swiftly to the fireplace, throwing in a pinch of Floo Powder and called, "Madame Pomfrey!"

With very short delay, a grey flecked head of hair appeared in the flames and said, "Yes, Headmaster, what can I do for you?"

"You worked at St. Mungo's for a time, correct?"

"Well of course, Albus, you know that well enough," she replied, her furrowed brow looking menacing in the shadow of green flames.

"What is their policy of convicts in the wards?"

* * *

Sirius couldn't bring himself to do anything besides sit at Harry's bedside, the fingers of his right hand laced through the fingers of Harry's left. His chin sat resting on the edge of the mattress, eyes sweeping over the still figure before him. For all that went racing through his mind, the only thought that stuck with him was that, in any second, a loud crash and yelling voices would bring in the ministry and he would never see Harry again. '_Couldn't protect you before, can't protect you now_,' he thought glumly and sadly closed his eyes.

When the door opened, he didn't even look up, just waited to feel the wand pressing into the back of his neck, to feel the hand grab his hair and yank his head back, to feel uncountable hands pull him out of his chair and throw him to the floor but it never came. In fact, nothing came. After he was sure a full minute had passed with nothing to show for it, he ventured to look up and found that the door must have been blow open by a breeze or by somebody with the wrong room, unwilling to close the door for fear of "waking up" the people inside. Too drained to bother to rub his eyes, he merely set his head back down as he had done that very morning. With his eyes closed and other senses sharpened, he could feel Harry's pulse thumping from his wrist onto Sirius', he could smell the antiseptics from the bandages and blankets, and he could hear the nurses talking in the hallway beyond the door. Uninterested at first, he began to liven up when he heard Kyren's voice coming from down the hall.

"Well if you think it's him then you need to tell somebody, I mean, besides me. There's not much I can do to help you but there are plenty of aggressive people here that would be more than glad to do their part."

"I don't know," another voice came, disturbed, frightened. "I'm just so worried about it. What if he comes to find me or something?"

"Eleanor Thile!" Kyren said again. "Would you just listen to yourself? What total nonsense."

"Well nothing has happened in years! And with the war coming back I don't know if I want to create more trouble, especially not for myself…" she trailed.

"Well, if you're not going to do it for yourself, which you _deserve_, then do it for all of humankind! Take your revenge on Sirius and if he rips your heart out, just give me the signal and I'll fix you right up."

_'Oh my God.__ What the hell kind of person do they think I am? They think I'm a murderer, that's what. A violent, crazy man that rips out peoples internal organs in my spare time for pleasure.'_

"I suppose you're right, Kyren," Eleanor sighed, "Just please, if I do decide to do this… just pray for me, okay?"

"I will, love, don't you worry about that."

* * *

It was cold in the bowels of Hogwarts. Professor Snape seemed perfectly at ease with the temperature as he strode through the maze of hallways, his black robes billowing behind him and whipping as he turned the dark corners. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were practically running to keep up with him wondering all the while what they had done to deserve this unforeseen punishment, for what else could it possibly be?

As they rounded the last echoing corner, they saw Snape standing in front of his office door, just finishing unlocking it and he turned to them, beckoning them into the dark cavern.

Hesitantly they did as requested, Ginny entering first, followed by Ron and then Hermione. They stood together in the unlit room waiting for some sign from the overpowering man until he slammed the door closed behind him, causing all three to jump and shake from both nerves and cold.

"Lumos," they heard their Professor say and were surprised to see him standing on the other side of them behind his desk, absently shuffling through papers and books completely ignoring them. After a moment had passed without him even acknowledging their presence, Hermione cleared her throat to speak up but was cut off abruptly.

"Sit down," he commanded, "just give me a moment's peace for Merlin's sake."

"But Professor," she began.

"Just let me finish this Granger and when I am ready we will continue. Is that fair enough for you?" he asked with a sneer.

"Quite," she spat back, thoroughly annoyed with the man for his rudeness, his lack of respect, and for dragging them down here with no purpose. She sat back in her chair pulling her book bag to her lap and began rummaging through its contents. Books, parchment, quills, ink, rubber bands, the only thing she was missing was the look of mixed amusement and annoyance on Professor Snape's face.

As he finally turned to a bookshelf and pulled a book out from its ranks, he said, with no conviction, "That's a very nice spell book you have, Ms. Granger."

Unsure of how to respond but long since intimidated by the man, she questioningly retorted, "Thank you, Professor. Would you like to borrow it perhaps? I can use Ron's book for a time if that is the case."

"I'm sure but I'd rather _you_ used it," he said, finally sitting behind the large, wooden desk, the jars of eye balls and miniature squid in preservative staring blankly into the confines of the room. "In fact, that is what I've brought you here for. But before I say any more, you must swear to me that word of this meeting will never be let out. If you are asked as to your whereabouts, should you choose to stay, you were serving a detention with me-"

"You've got to be kidding me," Ron let out under his breath.

"-if not… make up whatever lie you see fit, but the decision is now. What is your choice?" he demanded, looking directly at Ginny who looked beyond her wits as to what to respond with. Vaguely coming to the conclusion that this must be something of substance other than random punishment, which she wouldn't put past the Slytherin Head, she nodded slowly saying, "I'm staying."

Ron, shocked at his sister's answer but unwilling to leave her alone with Snape replied, with less enthusiasm, "Me too."

Hermione, however, took a moment to study the man's face. She didn't know what she was looking for, perhaps some clue as to the need for such secrecy between teacher and student, yet inevitably replied with an inquiring, "And I."

"Good," he said, immediately to business. "Now, you will swear that this meeting has never occurred. You are now serving a detention, understood?" It suddenly occurred to the three that maybe he was planning some sort of elaborate and Herculean chore for them to do with their consent but before Hermione could question his motives, Ginny said stately, "I swear."

"Me too, I guess," Ron seconded.

"Say it, Weasley, or you're going back."

"Fine, I swear. Sir."

"Ms. Granger?"

"I swear."

"Alright. I have a task for you. Lupin and Professor McGonagall spoke to you about Potter, correct? What do you know?"

"Everything," Hermione said.

"Everything from where?" he demanded.

"Everything since before 3:30 this afternoon," she clarified.

"So you know about Potter's stroke then?"

All three of them nodded, Ginny wondering what this was possibly going to lead to.

"I pulled you after supper because I noticed you two had your book bags and thus your spell books. What other books do you have?"

"_Advanced Transfiguration, Magical Plants that Hurt and Heal, Ancient Runes of the Second Century, _and_ The Algorithm in the Wizarding World_," Hermione read.

"I have _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_, and _The Monster Book of Monsters_," Ginny added.

"Good, Ms. Granger, you will keep your Transfiguration and Herbology book out; Ms. Weasley, your spell book. We are going to be reading."

"Excuse me, professor, but what are you talking about?" Ron asked in a bout of courage.

Looking at all three of them distinctly for at least the second time that evening, studying their every move and squirm, he finally said, "Something has come up in Mr. Potter's case. It seems that we may be able to find out who cursed him but, admittedly, I can't think of everybody that would be out for his blood on my own. You, being his friends," he said with just a touch of disgust, "would know most if not all of the students at Hogwarts that could have started it."

"But Professor, the instigator has to come into contact with the victim within a week prior to it happening. Nobody at school could have reached him," Hermione pointed out.

"You think I don't know that Granger?" he fought back. "I'm not an imbecile! Why do you think I've asked about your textbooks? Those tomes are the only literature some of the students here read and if somebody against Potter found a mention of a certain spell in one of your books and passed it along to the correct person or persons, then we can narrow down the field of who almost killed your companion. Does that make sense, Ms. Granger, or do I need to explain it in smaller words?"

Taken aback by his sudden outburst, she quietly replied, "No, professor, I understand perfectly well. But could we do this in the library perhaps, or our common room? There is a bit more light in those places-" she gently lied.

"Why don't you just use your wand to provide you with more light? Or should I be telling you to use your head?" he spat.

With a dark glare she repacked her school bag, practically throwing _Magical Plants that Hurt and Heal_ at Ron, and viciously clasping the latches before standing up to leave.

"You are not going anywhere, Ms. Granger, now sit down!"

"No!" she shouted in a bout of courage. "Despite what you think, I am not in your class any more and don't have to take your rudeness lying down," she said, making for the door. "I've put up with your remarks and I dare say your ego for the last five and a half years, _Sir_, and I don't plan on wasting another moment of my time."

"You made an oath-"

"Yes, well, I won't tell anybody and I'll still lie about detention. Happy?" she asked and swung the door open.

"I thought you had more heart, Granger," he called. "Apparently you don't care about your precious friend after all."

"You know what? Just because I won't stand for your injustice anymore doesn't mean I don't care. It means I've grown up and you can't bully me anymore."

"Five points from Gryffindor!" he called angrily to her back.

"Why not make it ten so it's even?" She shouted over her shoulder and slammed the door closed behind her.

"Go," he said to Ron and Ginny who were sitting silently in awe at the scene that just transpired. "Go!" he yelled more forcefully and quickly Ron gathered himself up and headed for the door, but Ginny remained behind. "What is it, Ms. Weasley?" Snape asked with malice and boredom.

"Um, I was just wondering, sir, what is the spell called, exactly, and its incantation?"

"It's a mixture of an enlargement, thickening, and a time charm in one. The spell itself is called The Encephalocclusion curse. The incantation is _cerebroventis apoplessein_. Do you think you can remember all that?" he said, just as bitterly as ever.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, professor," Ginny said and quietly followed her brother out into the hallway.

As the door was pulled closed, Severus Snape sat back in his chair, putting his feet on his desk in a very relaxed fashion.

"Severus, old boy, you've done it again."

* * *

Yeah, it's not really a place to stop I suppose, but the only thing I could think of to come next I want to wait on or we'll end up skipping like four days worth of time. So if you're still there, drop me a review or some hate mail for taking so long and maybe I can get something up faster for the next round!

Review Reviews!

_FallenAngel_: It was ALL you, don't doubt it for a second! You and the end of the semester… Death threats will still be accepted!

_Tayce__:_ I'm sorry I took so long and thanks for sticking with me! As for Sirius, well, I was going to let you find out what's going on with him this chapter, but that was part of what would skip too much time and it wouldn't be nearly as fun! J I have alternate plans for our favorite ungrounded-convicted-felon! And Harry, well, lets just say he'll wake up at an angsty time!

_Nightspear__:_ Thanks for all the specifics in your reviews! I really like knowing what you like and don't like; it is really helpful. How's writing coming for you and how was your bio final? I hope it went well and I hope you convinced your guy friend to go to HP3 too! Lol! Let me know!

_Panda12289_: lol, thanks for digging the dying drama! And I went back and re-read some of the story and you're right… Hermione and Ron kinda don't sound that upset but they are deep down… they're just hiding it from the rest of the school because, well, levels of worry for the flu and a stroke are kinda like a two and an eight on the Richter scale. Thanks for liking my story and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

_ParanoiaIn2005_: lol! Thanks! I hope you enjoyed the chapter lol since we were just talking about this about 6 hours ago! lol shakes head at self

_And to everyone_: Again, I hope I haven't lost anybody due to my extended leave and I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. If this happens again, I give you all permission to come to my house and knock on my window shouting "Write! For the Love of God, Write!!" at 4:30 in the morning… lol… maybe then I'll speed up the muse!

May all of your finals be simple, your grades be high, and your summers be btchin' to say the least!

Ever yours,

Tini :D


	9. The Black List

July 5, 2004

Disclaimer:  "It was art spoken with different accents, but with the same message."  Also known as, 'same idea, but this one is fanfic.'

Authors Note:  Hey all, once again I've taken ages to upload (what's new?) but honestly, I had major writers block on this fic but I think it's slowly starting to come back to me.  Who knew?  Anywhoo, off you go!  Frolic and laugh as you read under the eaves… or roof of your house… :D

-

The nurses station of major hospital is never a quiet place save in the very wee hours of the morning.  There is a constant bustle about the place that never leaves a feeling of laziness.  Even the small shuffle of a few papers always insinuates hard work, a will to help others, a continuous drive to heal ailing members of any community.  But on this particular evening, the nurses' station situated across from Room 293 in St. Mungo's hospital was silent with raptured ears listening to a ghostly tale.  Eleanor was sitting in a simple office chair, her arms crossed over her chest as if she were very cold as she spoke slowly and carefully of what had transpired between her and the godfather of young Harry Potter only a few short hours ago.  Kyren and Larna sat close by, listening in stunned silence as their old friend spoke while the other nurses and attendants sat on the desk or leaned over the counter, all trying to grab every word that was spoken.

Her voice was stone cold and yet somehow seemed distant, as if remembering a different time and she never looked at anybody; she would glance around at the papers and chewed pen caps, but rarely dared to catch an eye.  The hidden truth of a dark man only paces away kept her nervous and agitated in her seat while others tried to calm her.  The story was old but nobody cared.  This new enlightenment made hearts flutter and breaths catch; it was the tale of a lifetime, and a tale they could only hope would end in triumph.

-

It had been a long, horrible, trying day, but not for anyone more than Sirius.  The shock of rapid fire changes left him drained, utterly exhausted and with a hesitant hope even though he hated to admit it.  The light of day was gone, bringing with it the soulless black sky with stars that sprung tears in the heart of the lonely Animagus.  With darkness encroaching over all that lay below, he stepped away from the frosted window pane not even realizing that he should be thankful the rooms were magically heated.  He rubbed his burning eyes for what had to have been the hundredth time that day.  Stretching his muscles he turned from the darkness and paced the room once, strolling from one corner to the next, past Harry's bed and over towards the window to the hallway.  He glanced out as he turned around to retrace his steps and noticed a congregation of aides around the nurses' station.  For what, he didn't know, but he could definitely imagine; all of the thoughts that came to mind however, were in no way comforting.  He stopped to watch for a moment until a number of the nurses and attendants turned to glance at the room as if they had sensed him spying on them and he quickly continued on his path. 

He still hadn't heard from Remus and it weighed on his mind.  He had promised to be right back or at least send word but that had been hours ago; he vaguely wondered if Remus had been captured by the Ministry and was being forced to give them information on his whereabouts.  He paused his pacing, trying sleepily to retain the majority of his ability to rationalize situations and he convinced himself that Remus would never tell anything to the Ministry if they had him and Dumbledore would surely spring him out before anything happened anyway.  But the thoughts still haunted him.

He resumed his pensive stroll and turned his mind to Harry's friends.  '_I'll bet Hermione is devastated_,' he thought.  He never told anybody, but he had once overheard her speaking with a portrait last Christmas about how much she worried about Harry.  '_I panic inside every time I hear that something has happened,' _she had said._  'My thoughts always jump to Harry no matter what the news is and I just pray that no harm will come to him.  I almost died when he came back from the graveyard last year.  I thought he was already dead…_'  Sirius had continued down the hall at that point, not thinking it very polite to eavesdrop on such a heavy topic but he was sure it would continue with her feelings on Harry's vision of Mr. Weasley and her decision to leave her parents behind on the holidays to be with him last Christmas. 

'_She's a very loyal friend_,' Sirius thought.  He never doubted that she and his godson would be best friends until their dying day; he even thought it would be cute to see them together romantically but he knew deep down that they would never be more than friends.  '_They'll turn to each other for everything, but they'll never break the line of such a beautiful friendship_.'  He was very sorry that she couldn't be here for Harry now.

Ron also came to mind, of course, and he wondered how he was taking the situation.  To Sirius, Ron was like a lit firecracker with no label.  Sometimes his emotions would explode and he'd turned a multitude of brilliant and sometimes violent colors.  Other times he would give a loud _bang!_ and that would be that; still other times he would act quietly and gently. Sirius assumed it to be the fault of defending himself against so many brothers; a different reaction required for each one to get his point across and be left alone if that be the case.  But Sirius knew that Ron had been Harry's first friend ever and he was pretty sure that the same held true for Ron outside of his family.  He imagined him being very quiet, possibly withdrawn, unsure of what to say or do. 

He imagined Ginny, on the other hand, as being very strong in the situation, taking charge of the two remaining friends by trying to console them however she could.  After all, she really didn't know Harry as well as they did; she was not a member of the illustrious trio that broke the mysteries of the old haunted castle before any of the professors could, she had friends of her own.

And then his thoughts turned to himself as he gazed at his ghostly reflection in the chilled window to the wintry world beyond.  '_I look so old_,' he thought with a melancholy air.  '_How did I change from twenty-something and handsome to ninety and sickly so quickly?_'  In truth, he did not look as old as he felt, his specter-like appearance only a trick of the glass and the pounding veins in his eyes.  He hadn't slept in days, the short nap he had tried to take over twenty hours ago had ended abruptly after twenty minutes with the harsh call of his name through the fireplace beckoning him back for more pain and heartache. 

He needed two more hours before he could say that he felt Harry was finally safe.  In two more hours the memory of sitting on the front porch swing wrapped tightly in his coat and watching the snow fall would be officially a day old. In twenty-six hours, he could say that he had survived one of the worst, most horribly devastating days of his entire life.

He could see how his face was turning red in the dark, snow-flurried window and how his eyes filled up with unshed tears and he wasted no time in banishing them with the sleeve of his robes.  It had been a high-stress week for everyone and now they needed to be strong, _he_ needed to be strong for only one reason:  the young man behind him that couldn't see or speak or feel.  The young man who was being fed through thin tubes and watched with sensors on his heart and his temples; the young man who wanted nothing more than to be just that, a faceless member of a peaceful society with no more care in the world than what he was going to have for supper that night.  There was nothing that Sirius wanted more than that, to take away all of his worries or least hold him up while he fought them down on his own.  The reflection of the quiet, spent figure behind him made Sirius turn and gently resume his seat next to the one truly misunderstood teenager of the world and he did the only thing he could think of to do.  He dropped his head onto the back of Harry's arm and intertwined their fingers whispering silently, "We'll find who did this to you Harry.  I swear on my life we'll find them."

He fought as hard as he could against the sleep that began overtaking him, knowing full well that every moment spent unaware was one less moment that he would have with his godson; a sacrifice he was completely against making.  However sometimes the will of the body overpowers that of the mind and before he knew it, he was unwilling falling into a swift and well needed sleep.

-

That night found two red heads and a brunette buried in their spell books until the very wee hours of the morning searching relentlessly for spells, charms, curses, anything that could point to Harry's current predicament.  Hermione even had Ron reading the first volume of _Practical Defensive Magic and It's Use Against the Darks Arts_, the first of many books that Harry had received from Sirius and Remus for Christmas the year before to check for questionable incantations.  Conversation was slight, only a mixture of findings for Hermione to script on her parchment that they would hand into Snape the next day.  Already they had a list two feet in length.  Also interjected throughout their research were the names of possibly related students. 

As 3:30 in the morning rolled around, Ron felt he would pass out if he had to read another page.  After a brief interjection of, "Practical Defensive, Volume 1, page 396, blood chilling spell," he slipped a quill into the spine and closed it with a soft thud.  "I don't think I can take much more of this," he said to both of the women at the table.

"Yeah, I agree," and Ginny too marked her page and closed her book.  "Who do we have on the list so far?" she added with a stretch to try and wake herself up a bit.

All three of them were exhausted.  It had been exactly twelve hours ago that Professors Lupin and McGonagall sat with them in the Defense classroom, carefully telling them of all that had transpired.  Since then, their already troubled minds had plummeted and they had all tried to hide it; they would do fairly well around the other students, but they didn't even try to pretend with each other.  What would be the point?

Ron was openly worried around Ginny and Hermione, his comment at supper only one of the many questions he had about his best friend's condition.  Ginny was actually just as open as ever, but still as worried as everybody else.  She was dying for something to do to help and knew that Snape's hidden request was exactly what she needed in order to do her part.  She was dying to see him again.  Hermione on the other hand was withdrawn around the Weasleys.  She was quiet and kept to herself for the most part, yet never lost her air intellect, her silent magical power flooding over the edges of just how much worry and pain she could take.  She too, was dying to see Harry again… she had to know, had to see for herself, that her best friend would be okay.  She had been fighting back a few small tears ever since they had been informed on Harry's state but they hung on a tilted balance with her anger.  Anger that had been unleashed on Professor Snape and was sure to cause more problems then it was worth and with a small sigh she realized that she had no anger at the moment, felt nothing but a will to press on through the library of information before them in the hopes that they could possibly help to save Harry's life.

Blinking roughly to ward off the sleep and the itching of well-hid held back tears, Hermione picked up a sheet of parchment and began to read the names that Ginny had requested to hear.

"We have Malfoy of course along with Crabbe and Goyle although I don't think those two could charm their way out of paper bag much less land Harry in the hospital.  Behind them we have Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Montague, Warrington, and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team which is followed by Avery, Nott, and much of the Slytherin house in general.  Beyond that we have a questionable Zach Smith and Marietta Edgecombe, as well as Dolores Umbridge and Minister Fudge although both of them are questionable as well.  Peter Pettigrew is on the list even though nobody will believe us that he is in fact alive, with the Dursley's tagged on the end since Harry was at home over the break."

"Why do we have them on again, though?  They're Muggles," Ginny said while leaning back in her chair.

"Yeah, but Harry's uncle has had it out for him since he was little.  I wouldn't put it past him to try and find a wizard just to get rid of Harry," Ron repeated from when he'd suggested the loathsome family in the first place.  He hated to think of them at this time.  Ron was sure that if they had more respect for magic and more fear for Harry's safety, that he would be with them this night, eating Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and talking about how horrible class had been today.  He certainly wouldn't be lying soundlessly in 'Mortal Distress' with Sirius hunched somberly in some hidden room waiting for news.  Surely he wouldn't be in the same room with Harry; after all, the whole world thought that he was the one that turned traitor and tried to kill Harry in the first place.

"Well," Ginny said thinking dazedly, "what about any of the people that Harry named after the Triwizard Tournament?  They were all Death Eaters.  Maybe some of them have kids here that are students."

"Well Death Eaters gives us Snape off the bat," Hermione said, "but do you think we should put him on here?  I mean, this list is going straight into his hands and if we accuse him of trying to murder Harry there's going to be hell to pay for the rest of our lives."

Carefully Ron said, "I think to be fair we have to.  He'll hate us for it, for sure, but he did tell us to write down anybody that has it out for Harry and he does.  He's hated him since the day he was born and he is a Death Eater.  The list will probably be going to Dumbledore eventually anyway and at least he'll understand the reasoning behind it."  With a deep inhale he said, "I vote you write it."

"Me too," Ginny said and even Hermione couldn't deny the logic.  Hatred for five years, cruelty, all around vileness… Snape was probably one of the people farthest from actually wanting to see Harry done any harm, but on the surface he more than fulfilled the requirements.  Hermione picked up her quill and scrawled his name haphazardly at the bottom of the list with blurry eyes. 

"What about Karkaroff, even though he doesn't have kids here," added Ron and Hermione nodded as she wrote.

"Macnair was the one that tried to kill Buckbeak, right?" Ginny asked as Hermione added his name to the list as well.

"Avery and Nott were Death Eaters-" Ron started.

"We've already got their sons on but we'll add the fathers too," Hermione cut in and Ron set to thinking once more.  "What about Crouch?  Is he even still alive?"

"I don't think so…" Hermione trailed, the early hour skewing her, and their, trails of thought.  "Crouch passed away and his son got the Kiss.  There's nobody left that we know of."

"What about Winky?" Ron asked despite the knowledge that the suggestion would anger his friend.  "She never was happy about what happened to the younger Crouch.  Maybe Voldemort somehow got her to do it."

"But she was in the castle over break.  The house elves can't leave," Hermione said neutrally.

"We don't know that for sure," Ginny cut in.  "Dobby broke away from the Malfoys for a few evenings to save Harry in second year and Winky isn't tied to the castle, remember?  She's supposed to be getting paid.  Dumbledore said she's free to come and go as she pleases."

After a pause and with regret, Hermione sighed and added the lonely house elf's name to the steadily growing list.

They all sat silently for a few moments, all trying to think of some other person that could have been affiliated in the harm done to their friend.  Cautiously Hermione said, "Well, this will sound morbid, I'm sure, but… well, what about the Diggorys?  Or Cho?  Some, strange vendetta after this last year and half?"

"They left him on such good terms though, 'Mione, that sounds like too much of a stretch," Ron said laying his head on the table, "but go ahead and add them if you want to."

After another obscenely long lull in conversation Ginny said, "Well, if we're on the topic of morbidity, what if this wasn't an act of hate?  What if somebody did this because they felt sorry for him and wanted to help him… end his misery?"  At that the already silent common room went deathly still as the truth of the possibility ran through Ron and Hermione's minds.  The shock hit them like the whips of the Whomping Willow and they felt as if the very air in the room had been sucked out in an instant, leaving them stunned and clawing for a cleansing thought.  Hermione especially felt badly stung and she fought with all of her might to keep her composure and not cry.  "I mean," Ginny broke the silence, "it could happen."

"That opens up a whole new can of worms, Gin.  Do you really think somebody could have done it?" Ron asked, sitting up straight once more.

"I don't know, it was just a thought," she said.

"Well if that was the case," Hermione cut in, "does that mean that even we are suspects?  Because I would never want to see Harry dead," she said, more than just a little offended.

"No," Ginny said, "I wouldn't either," and Ron nodded his agreement. 

"Who are thinking of then, Ginny?" Hermione asked with just a hint of anger at the comment.

"I don't know, it was just a thought," she repeated with a twinge of apologetic fear in her voice.

"Well, just for arguments sake-" Ron started.

"Don't even do this Ron," Hermione pleaded, a bit of her anger returning.

"-that would give us a number of students, not to mention professors.  Hermione, have you noticed the way McGonagall favors him in class lately?  I mean, she still pushes him to do his best like she does for everyone else and makes him do assignments and all that, but she's more lenient with his mistakes.  She takes more to time to explain things to him than she does with other students and breaks down spells that he doesn't get step by step.  She doesn't yell at him or give him extra homework when he falls asleep in class; she just passes by him and even drops the volume in her voice so it doesn't disturb him.  And remember the final feast before break?  That was the night that he left the tower for her office two hours before supper.  He begged her to not make him go back to the Dursley's for the holidays.  He _begged_ her, I heard him when I was walking by.  I swear she looked at him midway through supper and started crying."

"But everybody knows what a hard time he's had this year already, especially McGonagall.  I'm not surprised that she's been giving him breaks and those are hardly reasons for her to want to kill him anyway," Hermione pressed, hiding her welling eyes with one tired hand.

"It could have been Trelawney," Ginny said.  "Everybody knows that she's been predicting his death for years now, but you can tell that she really respects and cares about him since last year, especially when she predicted his long life and hundred kids or whatever.  But she seemed so spacey the days surrounding break... maybe she was planning something."

"That woman is a nutcase, she's always spacey," Hermione said, "and I'd only add her to the list for that reason.  Besides, how would she have reached him on Privet Drive?  She doesn't even know where he lives."

Ginny shrugged in return but had to agree.  Trelawney wasn't exactly the brightest potion in the cauldron and Ginny seriously doubted that she had enough magical training to boost an attack against Harry by herself. 

"What about Flitwick?" Ron asked.

"What about him, Ron?" Hermione asked exasperatedly. 

"He has a lot of training in charms and whatnot."

"Well, duh, Ron he's sort of a Professor.  I should certainly hope he has a lot of training."

"You know what I mean," he said.  "With that much training he's bound to know spells that can do things like that.  He could probably kill every one of us right now if he wanted to."

"So could I, Ron.  So could you, so could Ginny.  Any spell in the wrong hands can be lethal.  A banishing charm could force someone into a wall, or off of a cliff.  You could use _Petrificus Totalis_ on somebody and leave them in a street to be run over.  Just because Professor Flitwick knows a lot of spells doesn't mean that he's a suspect."

"But what about Hagrid," Ron whispered. 

"What about him?" Hermione asked, an ungrateful sniffling coming from beneath her hands.

"I was talking to him after class one day before break while you were in Runes and he said something about Harry being happier if he was with his parents again."

"Anybody could have said that though," she argued hopelessly.  "Everybody wishes Harry could be with his parents again.  We would all want to be if we were in his situation.  Besides, do you really think Hagrid would know a spell like that?  He didn't even finish the third year!"

"But he's still a professor which means that he has to have had some form of formal education at some time.  And he really sounded like he wanted to do something about it."

"Do you honestly think that Hagrid would kill him so he could see his parents again?  Hagrid loves Harry way too much for something like that.  Besides, he said that he has lived on the grounds since he was expelled and became the gamekeeper when the older one retired.  Do you honestly think that Dumbledore would have left his mind to rot when he represents a possible partnership with the full-blood giants?"

"So why couldn't Dumbledore have taught him more advanced magic like that?" Ron challenged.

"Why would he?" she challenged back.  "What purpose would Hagrid have for advanced Dark Magic when all he cares about are his creatures?  This is so ridiculous Ron!  Honestly the next person you're going to blame is Sirius and after him you're going to blame Professor Dumbledore himself!"

"Well what if they-" 

"No!" Hermione said loudly.  "I'm not going to sit down here and listen to your unfounded Black List grow anymore.  You are accusing completely innocent people, Professors nonetheless, of trying deliberately and agonizingly to murder our best friend.  I don't even want to think about this let alone talk about it and I - I just can't do it anymore.  Any of it!  I'm going to bed; I'll see you in the morning." she said, clearly upset, and slammed her book closed with a loud bang.  Without even considering looking back, she went swiftly up the dormitory stairs not bothering to silence the slam of her dormitory door that followed the sounds of her tears.

A long moment of silence surrounded the remaining two hunters before Ginny said quietly, "Did Hagrid really say that?  That he wanted more than anything for Harry to be with his parents again?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, "but maybe Hermione's right.  Maybe he was just feeling bad for him.  Maybe I did read him wrong."

"Well maybe that will have to be something you work on, huh?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood and he laughed quietly.

"Yeah, I guess I will."

At that moment they both gave a start of fear as the portrait hole door clicked and swung open, yielding a black and ominous hallway beyond.  They sat frozen and still until a kind, old, worn face poked its way in to gently say, "Mr. and Miss Weasley.  What are you two still doing up?  It's nearly four o'clock in the morning."

Catching up with his breath Ron said, "Nothing Professor Dumbledore, we just couldn't sleep is all."

Dumbledore gave a thoughtful nod before stepping all of the way into the common room, but staying near the door.  "You're worried about Mr. Potter I presume?"

"Yes," they replied in unison.

"I am sure he will recover soon and be as good as new.  He is in extremely able hands.  Now I suggest the two of you get up in bed before the sun rises.  I very much doubt that Professors Snape and Vector would be pleased if you dropped off to sleep in their classes." 

They both nodded in agreement and still wonder at his sudden inexplicable appearance as they stacked the books on their desk and rolled up Hermione's parchments to place in their schoolbags.  They didn't say a word as they turned to mount the stairs but Ron did turn to nod gratefully at the aged, bespeckled man behind them, a nod that was knowingly returned.

"Take heart, young Weasleys," he said to their backs, "he always recovers.  Why should this time be any different?"

-

Whatcha think?  A little short I think, but you've waited long enough.  Drop me a line, por favor.  If you do, I may just update sooner!

Tini :D

P.S. Book 6 is going to be called "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" for those of you who missed the announcement on CNN and Mugglenet.com.  Whoo hoo!! Maybe that means it'll be coming out relatively soon (aka, within the year)!!  Hurray Book 6!!!


	10. Welcome Surprises

July 24, 2004

Disclaimer: Hmmm… something clever… something clever…. Sorry, nothing is coming to me so how about the standard, "Do you really think I own any of this? Oh, you do. That's sorta sweet!"

Authors Note: "Good things come to those who wait/ They say patience is a virtue,/ But all I've got is the time it takes me to hurt you." - BBMak They really know how to sum it up, don't they? Hope you enjoy Chapter 10! Go! Frolic and read under the roof of your house! Go!

* * *

It was 9:30 in the morning by the time Eleanor got around to checking up on Harry. Kyren and Larna of course had done their rounds, but Eleanor had at least fifteen patients to see to before young Harry Potter would be the top of her list.

Entering the room, she found him still to be unconscious, he hadn't moved a finger since the incident. With relief, she found Sirius looked much the same, resting his head on crossed arms, an intermingling of Harry's arm and his own. Harry lay perfectly still, his chest rising and falling almost mechanically with its consistent rhythm which was steadily gaining strength that it had lost with the attack of the spell. Checking over the bruising and bandaged limbs, she eased what pain she could, healed those scrapes that were small enough to take care of, and made sure that the crook of his arm was carefully wrapped; the point where his transfusion had been inserted and subsequently taken out.

An assessment of his arms and legs still showed damage but most was far from severe. The real test would come when he awoke. Would he still be able to walk and write and function, even recall memories like any other person of the world? Or would he have to work to regain normalcy? Like everybody else she prayed for the former but of course only time would tell.

She looked over the various potions and such that were dripping slowly into his system, ensuring that they were all fixed appropriately to his needs before she was satisfied that her inspection was complete. That is until something caught her eye. The flash of reflected light off of a small pair of glasses; glasses that currently resided on the infamous face of Sirius Black.

Slowly she walked around to the other side of his bed, the artificial sunlight from the artificial window lightly dusted around the room, giving a somewhat serene look to the faces of both sleeping men. Softly she approached the thirty-something year old, having only eyes for the tangled mess of hair, the rubbed-red neck, the hunched shoulders. Upon closer inspection, she noted that the glasses he wore had to be his own as Harry's glasses were still lying on his bedside table where they'd been placed the previous day.

A day. '_My word_,' she thought. '_I really am getting old. It feels as if I've been with these two for a year, not a day_.'

His clothes, though only moderately out of fashion, were rumpled and not just from wearing them for over twenty-four hours; they were obviously straight off the floor, or out of the dryer at least. The dark circles under his eyes were dissipating, but still held a shadow of a life so fearsome that she had to force herself to look away. She couldn't help but notice the faded scars of long ago and she menacingly wondered if they were souvenirs of Azkaban. She couldn't believe that he was actually here, in front of her, opening himself to the entire hospital community. It would be a joke if the Ministry couldn't catch him here.

But despite all of her angry musings, Sirius appeared torn, frayed. His whole appearance suggested that he hadn't eaten in days and that the sleep he was currently under was the most he gotten in the same amount of time. She couldn't help but admit that as horrible as he looked, he almost seemed relieved in his rest. She also couldn't help but admit that she liked that look on him much better than his stressed out and fearful façade. The nurse in her hated the fact that she was charged to rouse him from such a well-needed slumber, and anxiously she looked back out the window to where Kyren stood at the station, now watching her intently. Eleanor gave her a pleading look that begged Kyren to come and wake him for her. She was certain that whatever reaction he conceived at his waking, it was certainly not going to be a happy one and she already knew that there was bad blood between them; this was sure to only make it worse. But when Kyren looked at her with a pointed gaze saying, "Just do it, don't be a little baby!" she hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder to shake him awake.

If she was surprised when he didn't jump out of seat with a start, she very surprised when he sleepily broke open his eyelids and wiped the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his wrist. He held in his yawn and peered up at her questioningly.

His subtle awakening put her back a few steps but at least eased her fears and, more bravely than she felt, she said, "I'm sorry, Sirius, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room for awhile."

Now he was bolt upright in his seat, listening intently to what she had to say.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in a self-placating voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

"It's nothing major, I assure you. We just need to run some more tests on Harry and you can't be here at that time," she tried to explain, some of her fear returning with his withheld outburst and she looked back at Kyren who only stared back in a very, '_You can take him_,' sort of fashion.

"No way," he fought defiantly, "all of the other times I've left something bad has happened. There is no possible way you are getting me out of this room."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," she said, taking a cue of strength from out the window. "Nothing will happen to him, you have my word. The tests are simple and perfectly safe."

"Then why can't I be here?" he asked with reason.

"Because you can't," she replied. "We need him to be isolated from any form of contact, even emotional contact. I'm sorry, but you can't even be on the floor."

"What? Are you kidding me?" he said incredulously.

"No, I'm perfectly sincere. Here, take this," she said, and pulled a small piece of paper from her coat pocket.

Taking it in one hand while keeping the other closely laced with Harry's he read and reread it, finally saying, "What is this?"

"It's a meal ticket," she explained, "for the cafeteria on the fifth floor. From the looks of you, you could do with a good meal and with that ticket, whatever you want is free."

"You're not getting me out of here so easily," he said carefully, yet determinedly. "I'm not leaving Harry for something as trivial as this."

"Yes you are. And if you refuse to go, we will have to call security to escort you there." Sirius' mind hit the brakes and he stopped to think about all of the implications in that sentence. '_Calling security to take me breakfast?_' he thought. '_That's not a very clever disguise for them to take me away. I wonder how many people have actually fallen for that one_.' Seeing that he had no other choice but to do as she requested, he slipped the paper into his pocket and took Harry's hand firmly in both of his.

"Alright, just, um…. Just give me a minute, okay?"

She looked at him skeptically before saying, "You have three minutes. Any longer and security is taking you upstairs, understood?"

"Yes," he said evenly, and she returned a small, "Three minutes," before closing the door all but a crack behind her.

Glancing out the window, sure that she was far enough away that she wouldn't be able to hear, he leaned over closer to his shattered godson's ear and said, "Alright kid, this is it. I know that I was never the best person to guide and protect you and I know I was never there when you needed me but please Harry, you just have to promise me one thing," he begged. "For all the broken promises I made to you in my dreams, you have to forgive me and promise me this: you have to fight. You can not let something like this overcome and destroy you. You're stronger than that, we've all seen it. I'm so sorry but I'm afraid I won't make it, kid, and I'll have to leave you alone all over again. But please, for me and for all of those people out there that care about you, the real you… you have to survive. You have to grow up and be the man you're father dreamed you would be and the gentleman that you're mother raised you as. You have to get married and have children of your own so you can take them to the skate parks and Quidditch matches. You have to become a little old man with coke-bottle glasses and a sturdy cane that plays pranks on the boys in the joke shops. You have to become the man we prayed you would be, even if it is without me, especially without me since nothing I have done has brought you up to be the amazing and caring young man that you have become.

"You have to keep helping Mrs. Weasley. For all that we bicker about, she is the best person I could ever think of to be a stand in mother for you. She has always had your best interests at heart along with the entire Weasley family. You can turn to them for anything, Harry, don't ever think that they won't help you.

"Please, you have to overcome the anger and hurt that you feel towards Professor Dumbledore. He only meant to protect you from the deeper horrors of your life, you must see this. He wouldn't have put it off for so long if he wasn't trying to save you some of the pain that he knew you would feel, the pain you did feel. Forgive him Harry and try to look upon him as the mentor and father-like figure I know you used to see him as. He loves you so very much; he can't bear the self-inflicted guilt and pain that he feels around you any longer. Please help him through this; it will most certainly help you too.

"And don't ever forget that Remus is there for you. Even if he's teaching or he's moved far away, he wants you to know that you can always call on him, no matter the time of day or how menial the cause. I think he felt a little hurt that he wasn't chosen to be your godfather and knew that it was his lycanthropy that held him back from this position. But he's thought about you every day since your parents were taken away. He wants you to know that he loves you very much and… and so do I."

His soliloquy at a broken end, he bent over to hide his eyes in the back of Harry's left wrist, knowing full well that these tears would be difficult to hide. A knock on the door, however, made him quickly sit up and sniff them away as Eleanor said, "Your time is up, Sirius. Out you go."

He nodded quickly in her direction and leant back over to Harry's ear toning a quiet, "I'll be back, Harry. I'll be back as soon as I can." But Harry's pale face showed no emotion, no recognition that he had even heard what was said; he only continued on with his deep, far-reaching sleep. With the deepest regret Sirius pulled away from the closest person he had to a son and walked slowly to the door refusing to allow himself one last look, trying so hard to completely convince himself that he really would be back, but after a speech like that he found the task very difficult to master.

There was no mistaking the fact that he was tense in all meanings of the word as he stiffly stood and as he passed Eleanor and Kyren outside the door he gazed at them, his expression somewhere in the torrent of sadness, fear, and a hidden loathing. He already knew that Eleanor was against him, but now she had apparently spread the word even farther and she was getting help from the other nurses. If the Ministry didn't show up soon, he would probably go mad from the actions of the nurses alone, but still he tried to hide it.

Slowly he made his way to the stairs at the end of the hall, always glancing swiftly into the faces of the people he passed, nervous that any one of them would jump out and try to grab him but his fears were in vain. He climbed the three flights of stairs, always thinking of Harry; what tests they could be doing, why he _really_ needed to leave… if he would wake up soon and find his godfather had abandoned him once more.

Finally he reached the cafeteria on the fifth floor and fleetingly thought that maybe security was already there waiting for him; now as he stood outside the door, perfectly still, the realization fully dawned on him that he hadn't said goodbye. Yes, he was being hopeful and promising at the time, but he had made such promises before and knew full well that his best laid plans often went awry. He now knew that he would never see Harry again and the last thing that he had said was that he would be right back. No, he would never be back; not this time. Knowing that he could now do nothing to escape his certain fate, and feeling a little sick at the thought, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open, taking in the sights and smells that he didn't expect to experience for very long.

-

_'I can't be late! I can't be late!_' Ginny thought in a panic as she ran down the final hallway to the potions classroom. Snape was already mad at her, Ron and Hermione since last night, she couldn't risk angering him even more. As she approached the empty doorway she saw with dread Professor Snape reach out to the handle to close the door and she skidded in past him, just barely making it in before the door closed with a loud clang.

"That was very close Ms. Weasley and if you aren't in your seat within the next two seconds it will be house points," Snape said in his quietly menacing voice.

She nodded breathlessly and finished the race to her desk with no time to spare as Professor Snape began the lesson of the day, magically flipping over his revolving blackboard to reveal the potion they were going to making this morning.

"As I'm sure you have all read the chapters in your textbooks concerning the uses of Glyenph Creen extract, I am sure that you will have no problem in brewing this potion, yet as I look across your blank and vapid faces I am quickly realizing that this is not so," he said with a mixture of supreme annoyance and his never-ending disappointment. Ginny sighed, there really was no way to please this man. She only hoped that the list they had been working so hard on, even if it had only been a few hours the night before, would soften him up a little bit. She didn't bother to hold her breath.

"Turn to page six-hundred and thirteen in your textbooks and try not to blow anything up," he finished and all of the fifth years scrambled for their equipment and ingredients, wanting the most time they could possibly get on what was sure to be an impossible potion to brew. Most didn't even know why they tried so hard in his class anymore; like most fifth years, the stress of taking the O.W.L.s at the end of the year was going to be the final straw in keeping them from signing up for potions again in the future and Ginny was no exception to the norm. The sooner she was out of this class the better.

As per the usual, Snape strolled about the room midway through class, insulting and intimidating her peers with the usual, "That color is all wrong," "You've added the wrong ingredient again!" and one of Ginny's personal favorites, "You know, sleeping with your book under your pillow doesn't mean the information will diffuse into your brain." This one was used scantily at best but was a tell tale sign of, "Clean up your station, you are done for the day," and sure enough another over-stressed classmate left the room seething pure frustration that could be felt in emanating waves sympathetically through every student and happily through Professor Snape.

Ginny suddenly felt Colin Creevy, her potions partner, stiffen up beside her as Snape approached their simmering cauldron but Ginny couldn't really care less. Her three bare hours of sleep and relentless worry left her in a state that let her do her work, but not particularly bother about anything else.

"I trust, Ms. Weasley, that you did your reading last night?" he said pointedly. Whether or not he was talking about the potions book or the extra research he had dropped to them she couldn't tell so she nodded and replied just as cryptically, "And then some."

"Excellent. I expect you not to screw this up then. I know it will be difficult for you considering the abilities of your brothers but don't worry, I'm not getting my hopes up."

"Yes sir," she said and continued with making her potion. As Snape stepped away, Colin leaned over and whispered, "What was that all about?"

"What do you think it was about?" she retorted evasively and he set back to work without another a word. Ginny however was lost in thought, working entirely on auto-pilot as Snape's words sunk in. "_I expect you not to screw this up then…"_ Was Snape actually worried, or just trying to guilt her into making sure her research was correct and complete? Either way, she suspected that she would find out soon enough and as class ended and students began packing up their things to go she heard Snape call out, "I expect a research paper from you tonight after supper Ms. Weasley, four feet, no mistakes," but his gaze held a certain understanding sharpness in it and with a mixture of comprehension and crypticality, she replied a simple, "Yes sir," and walked out the door with the rest of her now bewildered classmates.

"Four feet?" they exclaimed around her. "What did you do?" "Was it for being late?" "Ginny, what's he so angry about?"

"Don't worry about it," she said as if the topic was very passé, "I got caught out after hours one night, it's no big deal," she lied but while the Slytherins snickered her house mates new better. Ginny never left the common room after hours, she never even got out of bed. If she had, one of her dorm mates would have woken up and as nobody had they knew something was fishy. Giving each other sideways glances that Ginny missed through her fatigue, the fifth year girls silently decided on a lunch time meeting to try and figure out what exactly was going on.

-

The cafeteria of St. Mungo's hospital was soothing yet stark, white with light blue trim and soft-on-the-eyes wallpaper. The tables were white and varying in size and shape. Some were rectangular, some were circular; some sat two people, some sat six. All of the food was lined along a wall with trays and flatware at the beginning of the line, with glasses and drinks at the end. The hospital had everything from cereal to steak and apples to zucchini but nothing really popped out to Sirius except for the absence of even one member of St. Mungo's security. He couldn't believe how paranoid he had become of late and as he shook his head of his fears and walked numbly to the carts and trays on the far wall of the room. Nothing jumped out at his as something that he would like to eat. In fact, he didn't really feel like eating anything. It was true he had barely eaten in days but he just couldn't bring himself to it now; he was still worried and that worry consumed all of his thoughts. So instead, he picked up a small plate of hash browns and eggs and moved to a rectangular table off to the side of the fairly large cafeteria hall by himself and didn't stop his musings. With his mind ablaze, he could only bring himself to push around the food on his plate as he sat alone, watch blanking as his hash browns became mashed potatoes and his mashed potatoes became just plain mash. And finally, for the second time in two days, he didn't even notice when Remus sat down at his table, watching the silver fork swirl around in circles and his dark haired friend sigh into the table.

"You know," Remus began, "I thought your mum would have taught you not to play with your food when you were little, or at least last week since she's been running out of things to shout at you from that portrait."

Sirius turned and looked up with a smile, startled, but relieved.

"Hey," Remus said with a smile. "I was wondering when you were going to notice me."

"Sorry," Sirius managed. "I was just thinking."

"I know," Remus replied quietly. "How's Harry doing this morning? Any changes at all?"

"No, he's still out. He's getting some color back but nothing has changed." He paused in thought for a minute before saying, "I just don't understand why they would have done this to him. I mean, I understand _why_," he quickly covered, "but why did they have to do it like this? You know I want to see Harry alive and well _more_ than the next person but if they were going to try and kill him, why not just get it over with? Why do they have to inflict so much pain on him all the time?"

"I don't know," Remus said sympathetically, thinking the same thing.

"It almost seems like their using him as a…. a decoy or something for something much… larger," he finished slowly, realization dawning on him. By keeping everybody's eyes on Harry, Voldemort could virtually do anything he wanted as long as it was done on the underground and the Order might not ever know. Now nobody but Harry, deep, locked up Harry knew of Voldemort's plan to overrun the famous wizarding academy but Sirius' mind was starting to run on the trail to enlightenment or at least conspiracy. Remus, however, knew that leaving yet another thought for Sirius to toy with could very well end up being disastrous so he quickly smashed the prospect of him thinking of it on his own, claiming it for the Order to deal with.

"You have too much on your mind as it is," he reasoned. "Besides, you still have to make that list for Dr. Jules on all the people that could have done this. You're not taking something else upon yourself until Harry is better."

"But Remus-"

"That's not going to work," Remus said smoothly over Sirius' begging. "It never worked in the past, it's not going to happen now. Just forget it."

They both sat in silence for a time just sort of staring at the table before Remus said, "Well it looks pretty nice in here. Did you find something here that actually tastes good?"

"Just say it," Sirius said, knowing full well that he was stalling on something.

"Kyren told me you were up here. Said you were asked to leave Harry's room."

"Banished is more like it. I was down right kicked out," he said sounding hurt. "Eleanor said they'd send somebody up for me when they were done with some tests they had to do but that had to have been hours ago."

"Well it's only 10:30 now. I'm sure their almost done."

"I'm kind of starting to doubt that. I don't really think I was sent up here so they could do tests on him if you know what I mean," he said conspiratorially.

"Well that would be difficult as they can't arrest you inside the building, now wouldn't it?" Remus whispered as he leant over the table with a smile that showed only in his eyes. Sirius was totally taken aback.

"One more time?" he asked incredulously.

"We talked to Madame Pomfrey last night because she's worked here, you know. She said that the hospital cannot have you arrested within the building unless you prove to be a danger to yourself or anybody else in the facility. As long as you're quiet you're safe." Sirius looked just shy of in shock and Remus continued hastily, "I'm sorry I couldn't get here last night to let you know. The Ravenclaw's launched a full scale attack against the Slytherin common room just after dinner in retribution for something or another and it took all night to question everybody and clean everything up. I was just happy that I didn't have any classes this morning so that I could come down."

"So," Sirius started hesitantly, "so I'm safe here?"

Remus smiled a little sadly. "Yeah, as long as you are your usual charming self, they won't be able to bag you until you step outside but Mad-Eye and I already spoke about it and he's going to try and make up an escape plan for you for when Harry is released. Let's just hope it doesn't involve bewitched trash bins."

"That's so simple though. I mean, are you sure? That sounds so ridiculuous."

"Yeah, it does, but I checked in their rule book before I came up here for visitor rights and it's stated plain and clear that you have sanctuary here so long as you're a non-threatening entity to the community. You might as well be in Hogwarts right now, because that's about the only other safe place there is for you at this time."

Sirius heaved a huge sigh of relief and dropped his head to the table, narrowly missing his plate of former hash browns.

Remus would have laughed if he didn't know how serious his old friend was in his actions. He imagined that nothing could have been better to hear at that point in time. He must have felt like Atlas with Heracles at that moment, passing the weight of the world off of his shoulders onto those of somebody of younger age.

Remus took Sirius' tray of uneaten breakfast from their table and placed it on the next table over so that it wouldn't be in the way should Sirius suddenly lash out in happiness or even anger. But Sirius did neither; he just sat there for yet another moment, letting the feeling of total and complete relief wash over him that he was fine, safe, free from harm for at least another three days. He was a "convict" here, yes, but a free convict and he was open to be himself without the worries of that certain somebody just waiting around the corner. Oh God it felt good to be released from at least one media of stress and Sirius offered up his thanks and praise more than even the most devout religious being on this earth could for such an unexpected and welcome blessing.

When he sat up again he rested his chin on his thumbs, his fists in front of his mouth and he just smiled. If he weren't so exhausted he would be exuberant to say the least. Instead, he just smiled.

"So are you going to be able to sleep now? No more freaking out when people walk past the window?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, "most definitely."

"You were really freaked out weren't you?" Remus asked, half jokingly as he already knew the answer to that question.

"I was surprised I fell asleep last night at all I was so stressed out. I kept thinking they were going to come in for me, but I was still with Harry this morning so I was happy about that at least."

No sooner had he finished his sentence than Larna poked her head in, gazing around quickly before approaching the pair of Maruaders with the utmost haste.

"Professor Lupin!" she called out, "Jamie!"

"Jamie?" Sirius said to Remus with confusion. "Who's Jamie?"

"Professor, Jamie," she repeated, meaning Sirius, when she was finally at their table. "I need you to come with me immediately. You really need to see this."

Without another breath, Sirius and Remus were out of their seats and following Larna out the door and toward the magical lifts at an almost run.

"What is it?" Sirius asked quickly. "Did something go wrong?" He was much more willing to believe that they were doing tests on Harry now knowing that they weren't conspiring his arrest.

"No, it's nothing like that," she said quickly, "but we didn't want you to miss this opportunity."

"Opportunity?" Remus asked confusedly.

"It appears that Harry has been having Rapid Eye Movement and for the last five minutes at that. We didn't want you to miss it. We don't know when it might happen again."

"What?" they asked.

"He's dreaming," she said excitedly.

With nothing more said, the two men practically dashed to Room 293, skidding to a halt next to Harry's bed. Still lying motionless, underneath his eyelids his pupils flashed from side to side and he was making very small sounds in the base of his throat. He really was dreaming. They took up posts on other side of him, Sirius desperately trying to coax him into opening his eyes, to wake up if only for a few seconds. He gripped Harry's IV-ed hand tightly, praying that Harry would squeeze it back, whether consciously or not, and he rested his other hand on his forehead, running his closer fingers through his hair.

"We've never seen anybody show a sign this early that they would be waking up soon. You should consider yourselves very lucky," Larna explained and Remus looked up with a smile to match hers.

Sirius, however, was fully engrossed with his happiness for Harry and barely heard a word that she said. He just kept repeating, "Just open your eyes Harry; just a little crack. Let me see those eyes that your mother gave you. You can do it," but his words and wishes were quickly fading with the shifting of Harry's closed eyes.

Slowly Harry's unconscious noises came to an end and his pupils slowed until they were barely visible even those looking so closely.

"Come on, Harry," he begged one last time, "don't stop fighting now. All you have to do is crack your eyes open and everything can start getting better. They really will," but it didn't work. Much to his dismay, Harry was gone once again and there was no telling when he would be coming back.

Blankly he felt Remus place a hand on his shoulder saying, "See? He'll be up and about in no time. He's very strong," but the words meant close to nothing even though Larna repeated the good tidings.

"He was so close," he said quietly. "He almost made it."

"Yeah," Remus repeated, "almost. Maybe in a few days he'll be fully awake and talking to you, but this was an enormous step for him today. You should be very proud," he pointed out to lighten Sirius quickly descending mood.

"I am," he said, "I just wish that he could have woken up this time."

"I know you do. I do too," Remus said honestly, and they both turned to look at the marvel that was Harry Potter once more.

"So how was your breakfast?" Larna asked, trying to break the silence.

"It was… well, it was… smooth," Sirius said with a slight laugh, remembering how mashed up his breakfast had become in frustration and Remus couldn't help but softly chuckle either.

"I take it that means you didn't eat?" she asked.

"No, not really," he replied with yet another laugh.

"Well, we're just about done with our tests. Do you want me to have them bring something down for you? You can stay for the remaining three."

"I don't know," Sirius said with still a slightly nervous glance out the window. He knew that Eleanor, and now Kyren too, would be watching his every move.

"You know," Remus said, "eating is the first step to admitting that you have a problem."

"What problem?" Sirius asked indignantly.

"Obsessive Godson Disorder. It happens to the best of us," he said with mock mourning.

"Oh shut up," Sirius replied and returned to grasping Harry's hand. The color really was coming back to his flesh and with this new development Sirius couldn't have been happier. Things just might be turning to look up a bit, but one thing was still bothering him.

"Hey, Larna?" he asked.

"Yes?" she replied from farther back in the room.

"Why did you call me Jamie? That's not even close to my real name," he said, and turned around to face her properly.

She couldn't help but put up an embarrassed smile as she said apologetically, "I couldn't think of your real name and Jamie was the first name that came to mind."

"Is Jamie a real person?" he asked curiously.

"Yes, he's my son," she said and with another embarrassed flush she turned on her heel and headed straight out the door.

* * *

So there you have it! Another chapter of _Tell it to My Face,_ and things are starting to look up a bit at that! Yeah, so the last part was a bit short but frankly, you're getting tired of waiting and I'm getting tired of relentlessly trying to finish it. I really have been working on this, I'm not blowing it off! lol… Probably some more of the Hogwarts trio in the next chapter… we'll have to see. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it and please drop me a line just so that I know you're out there.

Angel74: Haha! Good guess but I'm not telling! :P

ParanoiaIn2005: About the "Black List"... I wanted to throw out all of the options and make people think. Haha! about your Dumbledore comment... I'm definitely going to remember it!

Gallandro-83: I actually do read Bored Beyond Belief! Isn't she great? Haha, the "Harry's girlfriend" thing... nope, no g/f to speaking of in this fic... I just love to hear Wood say the word "snogging"... (I'm totally in love with Sean Biggerstaff... I'd snog him any day of the week... In case you were wondering...) It is 6th year, I just, "whoops!" didn't abide by that whole veil thing although some items from OotP are accounted for... you'll see as it goes along.

To Everyone: Thanks for dropping in for a read! Hope your summer has been rockin' so far! And remember, I may take four months to update, but the update will come! Never give up hope!

- Tini :D


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